by V Guy
She made a huff. “That food is spoiled.”
Malik rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to eat it. We’re going to recover the constituent molecules and store them. All those women will need something to eat, and regularly ordering groceries for a platoon’s worth of passengers would be too obvious.”
“And the plans for these three?”
“They get to go home.”
7: Representation
Day 665: Pathfinder, Evaline
Pathfinder descended through Evaline’s atmosphere eleven hours later, trading places with and recovering the decoy late in the planet’s night. Reclamation of the old rations and stale water had proceeded immediately after departure from Catricel and the moment those were done, new rations were formulated. A similar progression followed with the scrap. The moment the necessary materials were recycled, fabrication of new parts was started. Malik tended his patients during the duration.
Afternoon was firmly settled on ship when Malik went to the galley. Helen, Arturo, and Evelyn were quietly snacking when he approached.
“The ship is down,” said Malik.
“We’ll need a place for them to eat,” said Evelyn, her countenance and voice exposing her fatigue. “Twenty-three women will not eat in here.”
“No. They’ll also need taps for fresh drinking water, cupboards for personal kitchen items, an eating area, a drink dispenser, towels, washcloths, and sinks.”
She paused and scowled. “And all that, too.”
“At the moment, bunks, showers, and toilets are our priority. Arturo, I’m certain you’ve communicated with the others. What’s your evaluation of the rescue?”
The man was uneasy. “Killing everyone would be straightforward, but we’re not doing that. The slaves will be distributed throughout the facility, and there’s no guarantee the Intruder will be available for transport. Multiple trips with the Rumbler will be necessary to transport everyone, including us, which implies taking valuable time we may not have. Reinforcements will likely be nearby. The local law enforcement is deep in the slavers’ influence, and emergency response will be swift and strong.”
“Which is why we’ll be returning to Catricel,” said Malik, withdrawing food from the cooler. “At least two of the ASPs should still be intact. We’ll capture them. One will be modified for additional hardware to protect our flanks, while the other will be configured for electronic warfare to hide our presence. During the time we’re there, we’ll gather additional scrap—our rarer constituents are running low.”
“You’ve already considered the problems.”
“And it’s a pleasure to know I’m not the only one. Did you have something, Helen?”
The woman looked at him in surprise. “You can’t put anyone to sleep, control them remotely, or make distant mystery kills. Any of those would surely suggest your involvement if caught on surveillance. Your presence would still be needed on the ground, you carrying your own hardware and feeding us live intel.”
“And there’s at least a twenty- to thirty-minute turnaround to return, extricate the passengers, refuel, and get the Rumbler back to the surface,” added Evelyn. “We need a closer recovery than from orbit, preferably one that avoids refueling.”
Malik set the food in the warmer. “We can use a temporary safe site near the facility. There are spaceport slips that are rarely used due to outdated or damaged support equipment, and Pathfinder can be parked at one to reduce the turnaround.”
“And at least two commandos and I should arrive a couple of days early,” said Helen. “To scout the surroundings and prep the field, if you will.”
Arturo saw Malik’s surprise. “A better assessment of the building security is needed. It would also help to extract the women’s termination implants in advance, to avoid losing any of them during the fight. In order to play her role, Helen must actually be seen on planet and have a reasonable reason for being present, especially if you want her to con her way into the director’s office.”
She nodded. “We need to prevent an early lock down of the systems.” Helen saw Malik’s expression and raised an eyebrow. “This was the kind of thing I was made to do. They won’t be the least bit suspicious.”
Evelyn bit her lip. “There are too many things to do. Are we going to have enough time with three people gone?”
Malik retrieved a flagon from the cupboard and filled it with water. “Bomani and Li will surreptitiously arrive on Newday, Borislav on Monday, and Makaha and James on Tuesday. Liola will return Wednesday, but her return will be known. Physical preparations for our guests will take at least two weeks. Plenty of help will be available.”
He removed his warmed food and immediately started eating. “We’re on a strict fabrication and installation schedule. Supposing we avoid material supply issues, we can make the attempt the following Sunday.”
An alert chimed; Arturo and Helen rose from their seats to tend the fabricator.
“Don’t forget equipment testing,” said Evelyn, standing and rubbing the back of her neck. “It can extend installation time.”
“Yes, but every technical issue related to their presence has been well confirmed and should be routine. Only the ASPs’ alterations require extensive evaluation.”
Evelyn groaned. “Well, then here we go. I’d ask you to delay, but I already know we can’t. How long do you suppose we have?”
Malik made a secretive smile and shrugged. “If Dibbin’s wife is sufficiently distracted and we’re very careful, we might have all the time we require.”
***
Malik avoided the most obvious route into Silas, donning an enhanced capacity pack and taking the cloaked Rumbler to the restaurant. After parking the craft and trailer in the grass, he entered the Curve’s foyer and uncloaked. The bored hostess made a gasp, calmed upon recognition, and then hurried to retrieve her boss. Jamie saw Malik and gave him a big hug. Jon Borch emerged from the far offices in surprise.
“I didn’t expect you,” said the burly man, smiling and greeting him warmly. “A delivery was scheduled for Pathfinder this evening.”
Malik glanced around the sparsely occupied restaurant. Lilly, the young woman whose life he saved, made a shy wave from one of the bars.
“I was expecting an appointment today, but I brought my equipment should events change,” said Malik.
“Perhaps there is something else you should see.”
Jon directed him toward one of the rear storage rooms. In the right back corner, covered by a blanket and fronted by boxes, was the two-meter stasis cylinder Malik delivered nearly two years before.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve got a problem,” he said. “Martin left me with something that I very much wish to be rid of.”
After a wary glance toward the door, he pulled the blanket free. “We can’t have this thing in a sports bar. Running a business is hard enough without having this conversation piece around.”
Malik glanced at the stasis chamber. “You helped him die. How long did it take to persuade you?”
Jon shifted his feet. “Not long enough. Why would Martin Rose have a clone? Why did he need one?”
“You should ask him,” replied Malik, observing the chamber. “Did he give you new contact information?”
“Here,” said Jon. He opened a new document on his device, entered the information, showed it to Malik. He then cleared the data. “I was told not to save or transmit it, and even then, I was told only to tell his daughters.”
“Who think he’s dead.” Malik set the information to memory. “His paranoia is complete. I’ll inform them.”
Relief flooded Jon’s countenance. “I was afraid that one of the health inspectors would find the chamber. Can you imagine the questions that would follow?”
“People love the Curve and would cover. In hindsight, they probably already have.”
“Maybe. But I don’t want to take my chances.”
Malik glanced back to the dining room. “Have it transferred to the do
ck. I’ll remove it when I leave.”
“You didn’t bring a vehicle.”
“I had an inkling of your intentions.” Malik smiled as he walked to the dining room. “I’m officially here to speak with someone. My secondary purpose is to perform maintenance on your projectors.”
His sensed the approach of a very particular mindset, then he looked to Jon. “I’ll start with the table near bar three. You should be able to transfer the chamber through the kitchen.”
Malik opened the particular table’s breaker then removed his pack and began work. He accessed a side-access panel and had begun work on power supply evaluations when a man in a suit approached the hostess. A short exchange followed, and an encompassing gesture was made to the dining room.
The man took a seat two tables away from Malik and opened his menu. “We need to talk.”
Malik initially seemed oblivious, placed a partial interface on the man’s table, then returned to his work. The detective was aware of the device’s usage and placed it on his head.
“Welcome to The Belle’s Curve,” said Malik through the interface.
After a moment of surprise, the man responded. Their conversation lasted an hour and a half through his lunch, then continued for an additional period with detective Matthews. Three additional interviews were completed during the day, with Malik switching from table to table, detectives sitting on chairs or stools nearby.
When the last of these discussions were complete, Malik gathered his tools and got Jon’s attention. “Let’s take care of that burden.”
Numerous trips had been taken for him to surreptitiously retrieve parts from the craft, but this time he was a little more obvious. When he and the new owner reached the dock, the Rumbler was visible next to the dock.
“I thought you ran in,” said Jon, starting in surprise.
“Maybe tomorrow.” Malik moved to the rear of the craft, retrieved antigravity lifts, placed the four units along the cylinder’s flanks, and gently directed it to the craft’s rear doors. The back seats had been removed.
The lifts were dislodged and stashed in the hovercraft’s rear storage area. “I’ll be coming every day to work on the units. Bring Doris. I can work on her troublesome back when I’m here. She can nap or relax upstairs in the apartment.”
Jon frowned. “You terrify her.”
“Fear is irrelevant,” said Malik, making a snort. “I’m certain her pain and discomfort are quite real.”
“I’ll ask.”
Malik smirked. “That’s a good start. I’ll have the appropriate equipment ready.” He squeezed into the hovercraft’s remaining space, closed the doors, and to Jon’s surprise, the entire craft disappeared. A moment and a breeze later, the vehicle was gone.
The craft’s next appearance was in Pathfinder’s entry passage. Evelyn approached to peer into the craft when the lights brightened.
“Was it what you thought?” she asked.
He nodded, easing out of the craft. “It was.”
He removed the cylinder from the Rumbler and released it to the floor. Four mechanicals arrived to deliver it to a storage hold.
“Serena is nearby and would like a chat.”
“How was she?”
Evelyn shrugged. “She wasn’t angry.”
He paused to consider the situation, making an expression of resignation. “I’ll send an invitation.”
Malik awaited Serena outside in the semi-darkness. She had been informed of his return and would be along shortly, and his presence within the ship was largely unnecessary. With three of the commandos, Evelyn, and Helen present to perform the fabrications, they were slightly ahead of schedule. He would start demolition of the existing structures and the assembly of new equipment overnight; but at the moment, he worked remotely, generating patterns for modifying ASPs, creating specifications for attachment points on the ship, and guiding bots in the treatment of his three CSA patients. As opposed to being an inconvenience, his day-long interviews in Silas offered him opportunities to remotely work in a refreshingly different physical environment.
He sensed Serena before hearing her craft and raised the exterior lights. Her Halfwing slowed and stopped in the halo of Pathfinder’s lights. Serena emerged from the craft.
“Hello, Malik,” she said softly.
“Hello, Serena.”
She studied him. “May I board? It’s chilly outside.”
He nodded and directed her to follow. His crew had been warned of her presence and had intentionally concealed themselves, choosing to take the rare break to relax. Serena climbed the ship’s ramp and passed through the forward hatch, diverting to her right to enter the more comfortable surroundings of a simulated study.
“You left me four hours away in Moss,” she said, sitting on a plush couch. “I’m surprised you permitted my return.”
“I hope the accommodations were acceptable.”
“You were angry with me.”
His eyes flashed. “As appropriate. You sold my best friend into slavery and death. I had suspicions following her abduction, and her own words confirmed it a month and a half later. The degree of her servitude wasn’t discovered until considerably later. You have a way of making everything a challenge.”
She looked confused. “You permitted me back on board.”
“I loved both of you, not just one of you. Much effort was spent getting you physically well, and considerable patience was required while waiting for your brain to finally kick in. I need to find your sister. I cannot gamble on you changing your mind and interfering.”
Serena gave him an uncertain gaze. “You don’t know what it was like to grow up with her.”
He moved to the hatch and opened it. “Most people don’t sell their siblings into slavery. You didn’t know what it was like to grow up with yourself.”
There was a pause. “She was slow and couldn’t help but be jealous.”
Malik made a soft chuckle. “Selena was actually quite intelligent. Playing the idiot was her idea. Considering nothing ever went right with you, it was all she could imagine to raise your spirits. She started torpedoing her classwork when you were nine. She thought being better at school might give you something positive.”
Serena’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “You’re lying.”
“I tutored her on the side and gave her mental challenges when she became bored, which was frequent. Unfortunately, intentionally bad grades have a way of erasing opportunities, raising costs, and making advancement difficult.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. In some ways, acting dull made life easier; Martin never expected much.”
Serena was crestfallen. “She was playing stupid the whole time?”
“It increased your manageability.” Malik, reclined on the deck. “You could be insufferable, and the illusion of superiority bolstered your confidence.”
Serena was at a complete loss. Every time she sought to say something, her lips would move without words emerging. She rose to her feet and paced for a few minutes. “My lawyers can’t do anything but delay the inevitable. You’re no different than an animal in the eyes of the law, and animals don’t get trials. They get euthanized. Especially the dangerous ones; the special ones go to zoos.”
She paused. “I could say your actions were my idea, but you’d still get taken, and I would stand trial to no purpose.”
Malik nodded in understanding, yet his disappointment was clear. “What about the Dibbin family claim?”
Serena crossed her arms. “Marina Kay has a strong legal precedent. If I contest her possession, she could demand your death.”
“I’m valuable.”
“You mangled her mate. That’s perceived as a huge detractor.”
He paused. “What about a delay?”
“I could state that you were necessary for the ship’s operations, but that would last only until your replacement or I sold the ship. The completion of either option could be legally postponed, but I’d be
required to relinquish you within a month. If she resurfaces and makes claim, she’ll receive notice of my generous monetary offer.”
“A month,” said Malik, turning away. “That isn’t long.”
“No,” she said in apology. “I do think my offer is well worth her trouble.”
He rose. “There may not be enough money. I’m worth quite a bit now.”
Serena remained unmoving.
“Was there something else?” he asked.
“I don’t like this world,” she replied, her countenance falling.
“Then choose another. You have money and freedom.”
“But this isn’t over.”
“It may never be.” Malik’s expression hardened. “I expect I’ll have a new owner.”
“I won’t sell you.”
“That may not be an option.”
She paced the sim. “Where were you all day?”
“At the Curve, giving clandestine interviews with law enforcement. As much as I’ve tried to be invisible, some of my actions were noticed.”
Serena frowned in thought, her mind shifting from the conversation. “Jon was a bartender…where did he get the money to buy the place?”
“From me.” Malik smiled slightly. “He’s promised to never deny me service.”
“The Curve’s transfer makes Martin’s death more tangible. I’ve messed up a lot.”
He offered a consoling smile. “You still have a lot of time. You’re young.”
She turned away from the chamber to stare at the floor, her eyes scanning a pristine junction of the deck and the bulkhead. “I don’t have any more family.” After a thoughtful moment, she turned to him. “There’s something I’ve always wondered…why were you unusually obsessive about the ship’s cleanliness?”
His eyes tracked her previous gaze. “Everywhere you went, you got sick. I didn’t want you suffering if you ever returned.”
Serena looked at him in disbelief, her expression softened when she realized his seriousness, then her countenance sank when the truth hit. “I’ve messed up a lot,” she repeated, her voice falling. “I’ll let you know if I discover anything.”
