by M. Garnet
The manager's smile was not pleasant. For one thing, he had too many teeth. It was his choice as an adornment, but since the upper lip went up higher on one side, his gleaming lopsided grin was disconcerting. The glow was a soft blue or almost grey. He ran his hand over the other and got the same results.
"Put your hand over one of them." The manager's words were not a request; they were an order.
Shrugging, Moxxi didn't hesitate since she didn't think the balls were dangerous. The ball she chose went from green to red within its depths.
"Good find. Put it in my lock closet. These are emotional spheres. I don't want the others playing around with them, then get back to work." With that, the manager stormed out to the front to make sure the others were working.
Putting the orbs in clear protection boxes, she carried the two cartons into the special room that could be locked up and placed them on a shelf. This room was different than the other storage areas. It was neat and not cluttered. There were not many items in here, and Moxxi felt that most of the articles were each worth a lot of funds. So that meant these 'emotion spheres' were expensive. Interesting was the thought in Moxxi's mind.
Most people would be surprised to find that Moxxi liked her job. Opening each box or crate was a nice surprise to see what had been sent to this store from the buyers for the owners. The owners had strange buyers out wherever civilization lived and made items. The story went that they also looked through trash heaps and dug through ancient ruins.
The idea was to find anything that looked like it might appeal to someone else. An old tool in a junkyard space, cleaned and polished, could make a decoration in someone's office. Sorting and putting the items in what she got to decide were the right shelves with the correct collections was easy.
Next was her job of fixing, cleaning, or repairing different unusual items. With all the manager's short temper and need to make his employees feel small, he was generous in keeping the shop in good running order. Whatever Moxxi requested for anything that would help clean or repair the different artifacts offered through the outlet, it was supplied immediately.
When she had been hired for the job, the back workroom was a terror. Oil, dust, debris, and mismatched tools were all over the counter, shelves, and floor. It took half of her time cleaning up around her, as she learned the job while the manager yelled at her as he grabbed unsorted new items. He would slam one on a storage shelf and take another out front.
But fortunately, Moxxi was very smart, or she wouldn't have survived this long, so far out into the dark deep. Watching where the manager put items and understanding the sorting method, she soon found time to balance cleaning and sorting.
The manager and others saw when they entered the back door and went through the storage area or glanced into the neat, clean, and organized work section. What was the old saying, a place for everything and everything in its place? In such a business full of odd items with unusual shapes, having a workroom and storage area neat and clean was now accepted, and the manager considered important.
Without a word of explanation, Moxxi got a raise on her daily payment. That brought her back to some memories. It also asked many questions in her mind. Ones that she avoided for safety reasons.
Chapter Two
How had getting paid trigger any memories? First of all, there was an organic implant in the back of the wrist of most people. It might be elsewhere on the human body for some strange reason, but for most people, that place was the most convenient. Once it was implanted, the information traveled through the body like DNA and identified the person when scanned.
That implant was accompanied by a large coin or disc about three inches across. That measurement changes by the person or area and what is identified by the particular counting system. These flat coins were octagonal or eight-sided. They could be used as identification, payments, and deposits.
When everyone was working across the many civilized worlds, it was common to pay people daily. It had nothing to do with trust. It had to do with the exact period for one work period and how many of those work periods were linked together before a rest of one or more was allowed or agreed upon between employer and employee.
After all, it was a big universe with many worlds, satellites, settled moons, and other places, all with a different possible time interval. It became easier to settle on short things and let the longer-term problems be taken care of by guys with a bigger title, like the OOW.
On the strange distant world where Moxxi Tycen was born, there was one larger spaceport and not much outside trade. The word trade was important, as that was what her people did among themselves. Others would not understand that the implant was useless to these people, as trade could not be put into bank records.
Sighing, Moxxi took the broken wooden item over to her work counter and tried to wipe the memory of her home from her mind. Instead, she thought of the last place she had been before coming to Solitude.
It was a planet with real gravity, fresh air, and grass. It was a rare planet that had been civilized for longer than archives could record. But it was not overused, which was rare.
The problem was that the few jobs available were joining the military or joining the military or being caught and put into the military. In other words, if you stayed in this clean world, the military did all the work, and of course, that meant that those that were first in got the dirty jobs. The term was for five years or death, and it seemed there were a lot of deaths in this military.
Having minimal funds and unable to find a job, Moxxi found herself among a group of stranded transients living in the spaceport. The very first night, as she was watching the glowing board that announced arrivals and departures, it was the first time someone tried to rob her. They had made a mistake, seeing a small woman in loose clothes. She was new to this miserable place and might have something in those big pockets that would help these two males get off this stinking place.
There were muscles in her small body that had been developed from a different type of movement. She used them now to reduce the two men. Their plan was for the bigger of the two would grab and hold her while the other would go through her clothes, taking whatever they could steal.
Life can change in an instant. Since this was the only spaceport on the planet, there were two check-in points for crews and officers of ships. The one of interest for shippers and freighters was on the busy side of the large landing field where the military cleared the papers or rather the info from electronic blurbs from the ships. That was where the loading and unloading took place under the eyes of the armed military.
The ships passing through and dropping off passengers and small items required the crew to check-in at the same place with the passengers. This meant that the Captain of the ship Palmas was standing at the check-in window waiting for a young man in a military uniform to clear his paperwork.
At first, as the two smelly males approached, Moxxi stepped back, assuming they also wanted to see the info board. But they moved with her, and her instincts kicked in as she continued to back up. Not wanting either man to get behind her, she was careful. She might be slender, but she still had long legs, and she used them to keep moving back in long steps.
Everything happened very fast as a rough arm reached out for Moxxi. She did a couple of fast turns, almost like a dancer, which threw her arms out, knocking the reaching man away. He was heavy and made an awkward lurch that tossed him against the back of the Captain. They both went down together.
A couple of more long steps brought Moxxi over against the wall next to the check-in window. Seeing his partner down and being a coward, the other attacker looked around, and others began to stand up and take notice. He turned and ran across the room. The coward was heading for one of the many exits.
But Moxxi was still too close to the excitement on the floor beside her. The Captain and her other attacker were deep into a wrestling match. The big guy needing a shave was on top, and with his weight, was holding the Captain dow
n. The Captain, who was in better shape, was landing a couple of short chops making the top guy shake.
Things can change fast when a person is desperate. The big guy on top freed one hand and reached down to come up with a long knife aimed toward the Captain's neck. Deciding that she had to do something, Moxxi repeated her fancy turns again. Even though her movements were smooth, her feet were heavy in the work boots she was wearing.
It was hard for eyes to follow with a turn so fast; she was on one foot and brought the other stiff leg with that heavy boot up against the thug's head. The ruffian went over on his side and didn't move, the knife went sliding across the floor, and the Captain lay back, looking up at the beautiful young woman.
This led to Moxxi getting a free ride on the Palmas to its next location that happened to be one of the largest trading satellites called Solitude.
It was time to quit wasting time on the past and get busy repairing the wooden item in her hands. Her goal was not only to repair it but to make it look as if it had never been broken. Moxxi did enjoy this work.
Starting the process, she got out her special compound to meld the two pieces together and then covered it with a box to protect it until it was ready for the next step. There was a green light on by the back door as she went out in the hall. That meant another delivery.
Going to bring in the arrivals, she was surprised to find two of the standard solid boxes and one box at the side that was beaten up with the corners crumpled. It didn't have any labels on it, but the liquor store's next door was thirty feet away. The beat-up box had to be for them, so she took it first and returned to the other two cartons in one at a time.
Report: There is danger to the asset. I am warning her and will help her to escape. Details to follow.
The standard cartons hold a few items that can either be put up on the sorted shelves or set in the area to be cleaned. At last, Moxxi was left with the slightly damaged box with no labels. The manager came in, mumbling about how useless was his sales help. He went directly to the metal shelf that had square items.
"Manager, we have a damaged and unlabeled box with today's deliveries."
With both hands full, the man who was always angry stomped by her. "Well, open it and put everything away. Fix what is broken, and don't bother me. If it is too broken to be fixed, you can have it." He left muttering about nothing but stupid people around him.
Taking out her multi-tool with the shimmering blade, she cut the box open on two sides to let the packing and items fall out to her counter. She stood there for a second, recognizing the weapon that was tangled in black fabric of some type. Moxxi looked over her shoulder, but this section of her workroom was out of sight of the salesroom. She slid it over without picking up the small hand piece and pulled out the black material to shake out in her hands.
It turned out to be a long cloak or cape with a hood and a lining with many pockets. As she pulled the cape away, she exposed a piece of paper folded over under a small knife. Picking up the paper, she unfolded it and read the handwritten words.
Run, you are in danger.
Again, Moxxi looked around, but there was no one close. It seemed to be quiet even out in the salesroom. As she moved the box, there was one more modest dark flat bag in the bottom. As she lifted it, a couple of little bars slid out that reflected in her special work light as if they were gold. The bag felt as if it had several more of the shapes inside.
Standing for a moment, Moxxi tried to think through the whole situation. She looked around, but everything seemed normal. The box had been in her workroom for almost half of the morning, and it had set outside for some time with the other packages. That is if she assumed it came with the others. Of course, someone else could have just put the package with the other deliveries.
Going back to the exit area, she punched in some codes that brought down the storage area screens. Adding some more instructions to the Libot, she went through several files quickly to find the back alley's outside screen. It was blank.
"No." She slammed her hand on the flat keys. Stepping back, her mind was whirling. The problem for her was that she still didn't know if the box was meant for her. Theoretically, the only crime she had ever committed was to be born. When she had reached an age of consent, per her dead parent's instructions, she had deserted her homeworld and took to the deep dark.
Her parents were part of a service offered by the military unit of the Organization of Worlds. Most people across the civilized sectors had not even heard of the place where Moxxi had been born. It was unknown on the star charts and had many names among its people. Moxxi thought of it as Alani, as that was an ancient word in her old tribe. It meant flower.
On the whole, the planet was not a flower. It did not have many heavy metals, so the progress found in other worlds was slow to come to its people. But with space flight, there was no one left behind, so others came to this world looking for treasure and found a surprise.
The OOW decided the only way to protect the universe from what had developed on this one planet and protect those who lived on the planet was to wipe out the so-called talent. For her parents, they were given a choice. It was to have a mind wipe that would eliminate each other's memory or be assassinated.
They loved each other deeply and had kept the birth of their daughter a secret, so they chose death. Could it be now, many years later, and so far away that someone knew about her heritage?
She had a job she enjoyed, and she hadn't even frowned at a law officer. Was this box meant for her? If it was for someone else, who?
The indecision was making her stomach tighten, and want to get rid of her last meal. If she took all of this stuff and ran and it wasn't her problem, someone might be killed because of her. Yet, if someone out there knew who she was and hoped to use her talents, she needed to leave as soon as possible. Not only that, to accept that the box was meant for her would mean that there were two that knew her background. One that wanted to use her and one that was out to help her. Damn.
Now she had to make a choice. Putting the gold back into the small purse, she stuck it into the front of her blouse. Wrapping up the weapon in the cape, she tucked it under her arm, and she put the note into the small incinerator to see it disappear in a flash.
The next part was easy as it was almost normal. Reaching under her work counter, Moxxi pulled out her large tote and hooked the long cloth handle across her chest on the opposite shoulder. Picking up the partially repaired wooden statue, she placed it into her tote along with the small knife that had been with the cape. She felt her multi-tool blade was sharper, but she hated to leave the knife.
Going through the organized shelving, she went immediately to the manager's special storage room. There was only one thing she needed, the thin tissue that could hide anything from scanners. The manager had several cut sheets of it in a tray. Taking only one that she crumpled and put in a pocket, she took out the wooden statue and set it high on a shelf, all in one movement.
The manager had cameras here, and she wanted to hide that she had taken the film. She hoped that the camera showed her storing the statue while hiding the fast grab of the one-piece film now in her pocket.
Now it was time to leave. Going through the workroom, down the hall, and to the exit, she ran her wrist on the pad to get paid for the amount of hours she had worked on this day. Out in the alley, she didn't look up or around but walked normally down to the end and turned around the corner.
Out of sight of the store's camera, she changed direction and walked naturally between some delivery chutes. Everything on this station thrown away, tossed, went down a drain, or flushed was taken care of automatically by a built-in system. It helped make Solitude more efficient with the use of fluids, the most expensive import.
By a chute with no cameras, she acted as if she needed to pee over a drain. At this point, in the corner, she wrapped the weapon in the film that would hide it and tucked it down in her pants.
Chapter Three
If t
here was one crucial thing that Moxxi knew, she could not go to her small apartment. She needed to get to the docks but couldn't take a direct route. It was important that she also didn't draw attention to herself as she moved through the satellite.
The first couple of choices were easy and obvious. There were open food markets that had great tent covers that blocked the satellite cameras. Wandering through, Micca bought a piece of the fruit immediately in the front of the first one.
Making her way through two more, she bought a cheap scarf. Going out the back and under a camera, she tied the scarf on her head and started down the back alley toward another group of open shops.
It took her over two hours of walking and shopping before putting the scarf on another woman as a gift and found a drop-down grill behind an unused counter. These dark areas below the counters didn't go very far, as they were just for storage. But it did give her a place to rest and hide for a couple of hours. If someone were following her beyond watching through the satellite's cameras, they would assume they had lost her. That was the first part of her plan.
Making sure she was back behind some large old crates where she would not be seen by any salesclerk who might be retrieving items, she settled down and got to work. First, she unpacked some items from her tote, relying mostly on her fingers in the dim light.
Pulling out her multi-tool, she flipped out the unusually sharp blade and began to cut her hair. Taking her time because she wanted to do it correctly, and she had plenty of time. Soon the long red curls fell in a pile. By the time she was done, she had short hair about three inches long all over, with some falling into her forehead.
Seeing a bit of reflection on the small can of dye used in her workshop to repair products, she opened it and began to pick up thick strands of her hair and use the dark color on each group from the root out to the end. Her idea was not to cover up all of her red but to have a mixture of black and red streaks. Streaks in hair color were more common than solid colors among the people that traveled around the many worlds. Some were even natural.
