by Berg,Alex P.
No offense, Rich, came Carl’s familiar voice, but if this asteroid has pirates inside it, then it has felt the touch of a foot before.
You’re still with me? I thought.
I patched him in, said Paige. He’ll see everything you do. More, actually, because he has the benefit of the ship’s cameras at his disposal, as well.
The asteroid approached. We couldn’t be more than fifty meters from its surface.
So you’re spying on me? I said. Jeez. And here I thought I’d finally have some alone time to put moves on Tarja.
Silence. I could almost picture Paige and Carl raising metaphorical eyebrows at each other. Carl? Paige? That was a joke. Please tell me we’re on a private channel.
Don’t worry, said Paige. I granted Tarja direct access to you, but she’s not privy to the rest. It’s just the three of us old pals sharing your mind at the moment. And what a mind…
You know, there’s a kernel of truth to most jokes. Carl sounded worried, and not in a ‘you’re about to jump into the void of space to take on crazed pirates’ sort of way.
I sighed. I was a hopeless romantic, but even I wasn’t that bad. I swear, I have no interest in Tarja. Even if I did, I’d probably have more success seducing a box of rusty nails.
The end result might be more pleasurable, too, said Paige. Though I’d recommend a tetanus shot before trying anything salacious.
This time Carl and I stayed silent.
Oh, so you can joke about seducing an anthropomorphic icicle, said Paige, but now I’m the one who’s gone too far?
Tarja cut in on the private feed. Brace yourself.
We’d closed to ten meters of the asteroid’s surface. I gripped the handhold tighter.
With a shudder, the harpoon shot out from the bottom of the ship, driving itself a meter into the rock. The Samus Aran’s resonant cavity thrusters provided a small simultaneous counter thrust, pulling the tether tight. It almost knocked me from my perch.
Tarja used the jolt to her advantage, catapulting herself onto the asteroid. Tiny chips of rock spouted from her boots as her crampons engaged the surface.
Come on in, she called to me via Brain. The water’s fine.
Here goes nothing. I swallowed back my fear, pushed off the handle, and plunged after her.
I calculated properly, giving myself enough of a push and rotation to land lightly on my feet in a half-crouch. My confidence growing, I rose to full height and stepped forward. That’s when my experience soured.
My crampons locked up. My body jerked as the force exerted through my legs crashed back through me, and I tipped forwards. As I rotated, picking up angular momentum, the crampons, sensing the torque, released, but not before putting strain on my shins. I bumped face first into the rock and rebounded, slowly floating away from the ground.
I panicked.
Don’t worry, said Paige. I’ve got you.
The propellant thrusters kicked in, rotating me to a vertical position before punching me back into the rock surface.
Now, said Paige. One foot at a time. Deliberate movements. Be sure one leg is firmly planted before moving the next.
It sounded easy. I tried it. Turned out it was. Huh. So not exactly like riding a hoverboard.
Tarja cut in again. You coming? You’re not terribly useful as my backup if you hang out under the ship the whole time.
I looked up to see her a good twenty meters ahead of me. Hold up. If you want me close, you’ll have to slow down a bit.
Tarja kept moving. Not happening. Not now that I’m sure the pirate scumbags know we’re here. But it’ll take me a couple minutes to open the hatch, so that’s your chance.
She crouched as she reached the metal doors, and I saw her grab hold of something. I hadn’t asked how she intended to crash the pirate’s stronghold, but as I closed on her, I saw what she held: an oversized valve handle. With each twist of the wheel, the metal hatch pulled back another few centimeters.
This sucker’s mechanical? I said.
Around here, there are better things to spend your energy budget on than automatic doors, Tarja said. Light and heat, mostly.
So much for hacking the pirate’s sophisticated hideout mainframe.
Tarja gave me a nod. Ready your weapon.
I pulled my pistol from its holster, making sure to attach the optional retractable wire reel to my suit’s wrist first. Wouldn’t want to lose it, after all. Ready. So what’s the plan? I mean, other than for me to stay behind you and follow your lead.
Tarja wrenched on the valve handle again. Shoot anything that moves. Even if I shoot it first. I might’ve missed.
Seriously? I asked. That’s the strategy? We’re not even going to try and reason with these people?
Tarja shot me a murderous glare. Do NOT underestimate these sons of bitches. Mercy isn’t in their vocabulary. Don’t even think about trying to engage them in anything but a firefight. If you do, I’ll shoot you myself to get you out of the way.
This didn’t seem like the time to point back to the holovid security footage of the pirate attacks in which the pirates occasionally became violent but never crossed over to the threshold of murder, not with Tarja in the sort of mood she appeared to be in. Not that I had time to argue if I wanted. With the hatch open a good meter and a half, Tarja hopped up, disengaged her crampons, and redirected herself into the pirate base using the valve as a handle.
I followed her, though much less gracefully.
Inside the pirate den, I didn’t find the humming, tightly-packed space bar I’d hoped for. It was more of a forsaken hole in the wall, except the wall in this instance was an asteroid and the hole was more literal than metaphorical. In the bright interior lighting—Tarja had been right about the energy expenditure—I could make out telltale signs of laser cutting on the rock walls, walls packed with huge bundles of space-loot trapped by adjustable cargo nets.
I didn’t get a chance to inspect them properly. Tarja slammed into me, sending me flying across the room into a bundle of cargo held in the center of the bay by nets and tethers. A flurry of projectiles zipped through the vacuum my body had occupied a second prior.
It’s a trap, came Tarja’s voice. One of them is on our left, aft, behind a bundle of water jugs. Lost the other one. Keep an eye out. Those projectiles aren’t stun rounds.
I pushed myself off the cargo netting, trying to orient myself. Tarja flew past. She glided across another wide bundle of tethered crates and fired off a half dozen crackling pulse rounds into a free line of sight. The momentum pushed her back, changing her trajectory mid flight. A puff of compressed air shot out her right side, flicking her behind another tethered bundle as a dozen rounds zipped by.
As I untangled my crampons from the nets, my heart starting to hammer, I couldn’t help but acknowledge the bizarre majesty of a silent firefight.
I can help with that, said Paige. Pew pew pew. See?
Cover me, Rich, said Tarja. She launched herself down an aisle between floating boxes.
Was she insane? I hadn’t signed on for this, but like the brain-addled knight in shining armor I was, I tried my best. I pushed off the netting at a ninety degree angle, readied my pulse pistol, and fired some rounds in the general direction of our shooter. The recoil from the gun sent me tilting backwards, but I was fairly sure I seriously maimed a crate of freeze-dried potato pancakes before I rotated out of sight.
Got him, said Tarja. One down, one to go.
I did? Guess I’m a better shot than I thought.
Not you, idiot, said Tarja. Me.
Oh. Well, how are you sure there’s only two of them? I reached for a stray net, but I spun out of range before I could grasp it.
I’ve been here before, said Tarja. This cargo hold is big, but the quarters inside aren’t. I don’t think the life support systems could handle more than two adult humans.
I spun back toward the closest net. I reached out. From the corner of my eyes
, I spotted a blur. It wasn’t purple.
Paige activated all the thrust nozzles on the front of my suit simultaneously, rocketing me back through the cargo bay as the second pirate filled the space behind me with rounds. I slammed into another floating bundle of cargo. Thankfully whatever was inside crumpled under my blow, lessening the impact. Designer handbags and women’s undergarments, based on what floated free.
Lacey though they appeared, I didn’t have time to ogle them. I caught a flash of the metallic suit I’d seen moments ago. A head popped over a crate.
Paige blasted me to the side toward a free corridor, with slightly better accuracy this time. I ruined her efforts by peppering the area with more electrically-charged pulse barbs. I don’t think I could’ve hit the broad side of an intergalactic freighter. Apparently the spike of fear and adrenaline caused by being shot at in the depths of space, where a single stray bullet would lead not only to excruciating pain but also suffocation, freezing, and rapid decompression, had a way of worsening my aim.
“Tarja! Bad guy! Ten o’clock!” I yelled. I knew she couldn’t hear me, but Brain communications didn’t cut it at a time like this.
Ten o’clock? What the hell does that mean? she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “He’s over here. Help me!”
I’ve got this, said Paige. Tarja, I’m hooking you into Rich’s live feed and giving you access to everything he’s seen since the start of the fight. You can superimpose it over your own visual display if you like.
Coming, said Tarja.
I latched onto a bundle of what appeared to be spare droid parts, curled into as small a ball as possible, and held my breath.
No need for that, said Paige. No one can hear you.
Not the time for logic, I replied. Life is on the line.
Do me a favor, said Tarja. Pop your head out, look right, and fire off a couple shots.
Promise I won’t get a bullet between the eyes?
Just do it. Now, said Tarja.
Like a good boy, I obeyed. I pulled myself up and fired a trio of shots at the wall. Seeing as our assailant wouldn’t be able to hear them land, I wasn’t sure what good it would do.
Apparently, he saw them land. He burst from behind a floating tethered bundle full of large metal tanks and took aim at my head.
As if in slow motion, Tarja flew out through a small shaft in the floating piles of junk, propelled by her thrust nozzles. The pirate saw her and shifted his aim. As he did so, a look of surprise washed over him, and he mouthed something.
Tarja didn’t need to aim. She knew right where he was thanks to my visual feed. The split second difference afforded to her from not needing to shift her pistol made all the difference. Her shock barb slammed into the guy’s chest. He shuddered and went still, his lightweight assault carbine still grasped in his hands.
Tarja holstered her pistol, rebounded off a cargo bundle, and turned to me. I need you to drag this twitching sack of meat up to the Samus. We’ll store him in your quarters. The shock barb will keep him quiet for a while, but strap him into your bed for safekeeping. I’ll go rustle up the other body.
My heart beat in my chest like a drum. What? Seriously? That’s it? No, ‘Nice shooting, Tex,’ or ‘Glad to see you made it through in one piece,’ or even a simple ‘Nice job, Rich’?
I saw Tarja sigh through her helmet, but I couldn’t hear it. Let’s recap. You didn’t hit a single living target in the three dozen or so rounds you shot off, you wasted a healthy portion of your air reserves gallivanting around the cargo bay like a space cowboy, and you’re clearly not bleeding or venting through a projectile-inflicted hole. What do you want, a medal? Now quite whining and get this guy on the Samus.
Tarja grabbed a nearby net and propelled herself around a batch of plastic tubs filled with something that resembled bolts. As she left, Carl’s voice crackled into existence in the back of my mind. Rich. Buddy. You forgot to put the moves on her.
Oh shut up. I moved over toward the pirate’s now still body.
Seriously, though, he said. I, for one, am glad you’re still alive. You had me gripping the edge of my seat throughout that fight, and not only because we’re in microgravity.
Thanks. I’m glad I’m alive, too.
I grabbed the pirate’s arm and pulled him toward me. I glanced through his suit’s helmet at the scruffy, unshaven weirdo within. The shocked expression he’d given Tarja had been frozen onto his face thanks to the electrical barb’s timing.
Question, Paige.
Yes, milord?
Do you recognize this guy from the holovids?
Can’t say I do.
Yeah, me neither. I cast my gaze around the cargo bay at the suspended bundles of pre-packaged food, designer clothes, cartons of nuts and bolts and ball bearings, harvested oxygenators, and RAAI Corp. surplus sexbot left arms and pinkie toes. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t a single stack of iridium, platinum, tungsten, or any other heavy metal among them.
Carl still had access to my feed. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
Probably, I said. Paige, do you have the ability to send search queries through the Samus Aran back to the Cetie servenets? And to keep them hidden from prying eyes?
I’m not sure about that last part, she said. But I can disguise it as something else. What are we querying?
I pressed my lips together. I think it’s time we put our collective heads together and found out who the heck Tarja Olli really is.
17
I was looking out one of the Samus Aran’s portholes toward the rapidly approaching surface of Varuna, my eyelids heavy, when Paige tapped me on the metaphorical shoulder.
Rich? I got something back from our Tarja query.
I blinked, instantly awake. Yeah? Spill the beans.
Don’t get your hopes up. It’s an initial report. Mostly obvious stuff culled from the public servenets. Our more complicated cross-referencing query and the stuff with the lip reading simulations won’t be ready for a while yet, I’d wager.
Still. What have we got? I asked.
Well, it looks like Tarja’s main qualification for this mission was…
I waited for a moment. Don’t make me beat it out of you.
It’s called a dramatic pause, said Paige, and considering where I’m located, I’d say beating anything out of me wouldn’t be a good idea. Her major qualification was…availability.
By which you mean…?
Reports have Tarja sitting at the spaceport for a week before Vijay showed up, Paige said. As you well know, docking fees are ludicrously expensive. Word is, she was desperate for work. Bodyguard detail, escorts—with her ship, get your mind out of the gutter—really anything that would pay.
How thoroughly did Vijay vet her? I asked.
I can’t be sure, said Paige, but based on how quickly they came to an agreement on services rendered, I’d say not very.
That was interesting. I logged it alongside Tarja’s other quirks. And what can you tell me about Tarja’s former associates?
That’s all in the expanded cross-referencing query. Sorry.
“You ready?”
I startled. Tarja had snuck up behind me. She snapped her suit’s gloves into place.
“I’m good to go,” I said. “Just need my helmet.”
“I can tell.” Tarja nodded toward my quarters. “Let’s gather the cargo.”
We passed Ducic’s room as we headed to mine. “Heard from our InterSTELLA representative lately?” I hadn’t seen him since before the asteroid raid.
“He’s alive,” said Tarja. “I think he’s trying to sleep off his symptoms.”
The door to my room puffed open, revealing the two pirates, stacked on top of each other on my bed and held in place by the straps. We’d left them in their suits, but we’d removed their helmets, otherwise they would’ve exhausted their air reserves long ago.
I felt a slight shudder, and my weigh
t abandoned me. We must’ve finished our deceleration. Tarja undid the buckle holding the pirates down.
I grabbed one of their helmets and clipped it in place. “Is it really safe to keep them subdued under a constant electrical load like we have for the past few hours?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” said Tarja. “The electrical shock only knocked them out initially. They’ve been frozen since I shot them thanks to the neurotoxin in my barbs.”
“Neurotoxin?” I blinked and shook my head. “What?”
“They’re specially modified rounds,” said Tarja. “Not totally legal in many territories. Don’t tell anyone.”
Tarja clipped on the other helmet and maneuvered her pirate out the door. I did the same with mine. In Varuna’s microgravity, it was like carrying a sack of air.
Carl met us at the airlock and gave me a nod. “Want a hand?”
“Sure.” I tossed him the pirate as I attached my helmet. “You’re coming this time?”
“I don’t think there’s any chance of us getting involved in a firefight while we submit these fugitives to the InterSTELLA police station on Varuna,” he said. “I doubt I’ll get in the way.”
“You’re not still bitter, are you?” I asked.
“Bitter?” he said. “I was never bitter. “But I’d like to point out that even if I’m not of the persuasion to engage in violent combat, I can take a bullet with the best of them.”
“I appreciate that, bud, but I never got hit.”
“You two ladies done? Because we’ve got deliveries to make.” Tarja punched the airlock door shut.
I switched over to Brain communication as the pumps sucked the air from the chamber. So, Tarja…what’s the plan here?
What are you talking about? she said. We carry these chumps to the InterSTELLA settlement, drop them off to be picked up by the next police transport, and collect our bounties.
Yeah, but uh… I glanced at Carl. Have you noticed there are only two of them?
It’s obviously not the entire haul, said Tarja. But it’s a start. Enough to wet their lips. We’ll work on finding the rest.
