Mayhem and Mutiny

by Charissa Dufour

  Not waiting to see what they did next, Bit planted her boots against the stone wall and worked her way up to the open window. She fell through the window head first, rolling right onto her feet and grabbing her stolen handgun from the back of her trousers.

  She scanned the room, taking note of the frightened woman and the six children clinging to her, ranging in ages from just walking to about six or seven years old. Bit’s heart went out to the thin woman, but she had no time to stop and tell her to cross her legs.

  “Just passing through,” she said, keeping her gun trained above the children’s heads as she crossed the room and ducked out the door.

  She had no doubt the woman would lock her window, despite the warmth permeating the city. Heat wasn’t the only thing that permeated the city, or the planet for that matter.

  While she wasn’t an expert on Earth history or even a novice, like everyone else, she knew the basic timetable and what pushed the old nations to work together to terraform the other planets in their galaxy—people.

  By the end of the twenty-first century, the population on the planet had skyrocketed, and though there had been a few outbreaks of illnesses around the globe, none of them had stunted the exponential growth. Bit’s understanding of the issue was based entirely on what she saw—families of eight living in a single room, off of one small source of income. The men and women in the low-income areas didn’t understand basic forms of contraceptive, much less have access to medical care. They continued to populate, even when their home was full to the brim.

  Much like Earth, Mars was pushing its population limits. Unlike Earth, Mars had begun to use birthing regulations nearly a hundred and fifty years ago. And the resulting differences between the two planets were astounding.

  Bit gave herself a mental shake and hurried down the dark, narrow hallway that had been created as people built their homes atop the original structure, and eventually on top of what had been built in previous years. Now, the structure rose another five stories above the original stone building.

  Before her time on the Lenore, Bit had never thought much about these buildings and how they had come to be, but after months of safety within the crew, she found it unnerving to walk under four stories of do-it-yourself add-ons.

  They’ve lasted who knows how many years, Bit chided herself, they’ll last until I get out of the building.

  Bit found a stairway leading upward. She took it and jogged down the connecting hallway until she found another set of stairs. It took her some searching, but she finally found the top level and a ladder leading to the roof. The roof was made of rusted corrugated metal, mostly overlapped, but she spotted a few gaps revealing pressboard.

  Walking as carefully as she could, she crossed the enormous building to the far end. Another building sat across a narrow alley, one story lower than the one she was on. She backtracked a few steps before launching herself into a run. She jumped off the building, cleared the distance, and landed on the next structure, rolling with her fall. Her whole body ached with the jarring it took, and her knee throbbed with the beat of her heart.

  Bit didn’t pause to examine her knee but limped across the building until she found a trap door. It led down a set of steep stairs into the darkest hallway she’d ever seen. Bit steeled herself and descended the stairs, her knee screaming with each step. She zig-zagged through the various hallways until she found her way down to the ground level. Stopping at the exit, she grabbed a shirt out of her backpack and wrapped it around her hair.

  I should just cut it off, she thought as she remembered all the other times her stark blonde dreadlocks had made her recognizable.

  Chapter Six

  Blaine dug his toe into the perpetual dust that coated everything in the city. Jer and Nathyn had resorted to sitting down, despite the dust, but Blaine wouldn’t. He turned and paced back down the dark alley. After Vance left their company, they had walked their way up into a suburb known as Midrand based on the signs on every little shop and restaurant. It had taken them hours to navigate the circuitous city, especially when they found each train station packed to the brim. After the third station, they had given up on using mass transit.

  And so they walked.

  They had found their little hiding place an hour ago, and were intent to wait until Vance called. It was the middle of the night and they continued the waiting game.

  Finally, when Blaine was ready to climb the very walls of the buildings that surrounded them, his comm. device beeped. Within seconds, he had it out and the button pressed.

  “This is Blaine.”

  “Hey, Blaine. I got the number.”

  Vance rapidly ticked off the number. Blaine glanced down at Nathyn who had written it down.

  “I tracked it, just as you said, to an apartment building in Alberton.” Vance gave them the address.

  “Thanks, Vance. Take it easy.”

  “What else can I do?”

  Blaine didn’t bother to laugh at Vance’s joke. “Let’s get some directions to Morgan Reactors and head out. I’ll call Jack on the move.”

  Jeremiah groaned as he climbed to his feet. They had already walked more than any of them were used to, living on a ship. No matter how much muscle they built working out, their feet weren’t accustomed to the pounding.

  They left the alley and entered the masses while Blaine keyed in Jack’s frequency.

  “Jack here,” came their captain’s voice.

  “Hey, Cap, sorry about the delay. I got the address,” Blaine said as he took the paper from Nathyn.

  He gave Jack the number and the address, giving himself a verbal pat on the back for his skills in finding it. Blaine saw his companions roll their eyes but ignored them. Just as the noise of the crowd increased, he got off the comm. device and stored it on his belt.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Blaine sighed, glad the lying was over.

  Despite the late hour, the street was full of pedestrians. Blaine suspected that, like many enormous cities, Johannesburg never slept. They wandered through the streets until they found a little convenience shop where a kiosk offered a connection to the city information branch of the net.

  Blaine used his pay card and began the search for Morgan Reactors. As he finished, a small group of teenage boys surrounded their little team.

  Nathyn spoke just as Blaine realized there was an issue. “Can we help you?”

  “Don’t believe I see you faces here before today,” said one of the young lads in broken Common.

  Blaine turned to glare at him. “That’s ‘cause it is our first time here.”

  “We want no outsiders.”

  Blaine glanced at the shop owner. The old man stood behind his counter, happy to let them solve their differences.

  “Look, boys, you’re playing at the game of life. We’re living it,” growled Blaine, fed up with their posturing. “You really want to try us?”

  Blaine knew there were plenty of dangerous gangs throughout any large city, but this wasn’t a gang or even a small piece of a gang. They were just kids playing at being tough.

  The leader lifted his baggy shirt, revealing an old revolver. As if cued by some outside force, Blaine, Nathyn, Forrest, and Jer pulled back their jackets, revealing their holstered guns—all more modern and powerful than his tiny revolver.

  The boy’s supporters took small steps backward while their leader tried his best to stand his ground.

  “Now,” began Blaine, leaning in. “Shall we play your game?”

  The leader chewed on his lips. “No game. You pay money for a walk through.”

  Blaine shook his head as he grabbed the boy by the throat, his adult hand wrapping easily around the skinny neck. For a short second, the other boys acted as though they were going to defend their leader before pulling their hands away from the guns tucked into their trousers. Blaine felt a hand grip his arm, but he ignored it.

  “We’re not paying you a copper.”

  The leader just made a choking noise. />
  “Blaine, let him go. He’s just a boy,” Nathyn ordered.

  Blaine tensed at his tone. “He needs to learn to be the prey.”

  “And you’ve taught him that. Now, let him go.”

  He gave the boy one more squeeze before tossing him back towards his friends. The boy coughed, leaning on his subordinates. Blaine shook off Nathyn’s hand and stomped out of the convenience store, certain the others would follow.

  He had the address for Morgan Reactors. It was time to find Bit.

  Jack clipped his comm. device back onto his belt.

  “What’s wrong?” Randal asked.

  Jack grimaced, unsure himself. “That was Blaine.”

  Randal nodded.

  “If I wasn’t mistaken, I heard the sounds of street noise around him.”

  “Noise? You think he’s still on the surface?”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t know, but he definitely wasn’t on the ship.”

  “Dammit,” Randal growled. “Captain, he will be punished. Whatever he’s done.”

  Jack nodded. “The thing is, Randal, I can’t have a crewmember who feels he has the authority to ignore my orders.”

  Randal nodded.

  “If he stayed on the surface, Blaine will be fired.”

  Randal didn’t argue.

  “What if the others went along with him?” asked Randal.

  “We’ll have to see who started it all, but I can’t imagine Nathyn, Vance, Jeremiah, or Forrest initiating something as drastic as mutiny.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Anyone who stayed on the surface will be punished, but the leader will be fired.”

  Randal nodded again. “I agree. Blaine has reached the end of his rope.”

  Jack hated to hear the discouragement in Randal’s voice. Blaine was a good fighter, but he fought the wrong battles, and he had been warned time and again. The rest of their group emerged from the little twenty-four hour store, their booty in hand as they compared treasures.

  “What’s wrong, Cap?” Oden asked, eyeing the two who had remained out in the street.

  “Nothing. Whatchya get me?”

  Oden passed him a sweets bar and a protein gel pack. “Oh boy.”

  “Yeah, they didn’t have much, and nothing in the way of real food.”

  Before Jack could explain their next plan, three Earth policemen approached them. On Mars the whole profession had been transformed, but on the human home world policemen were still feared, even by the innocent.

  “I don’t recall seeing you lot around here before,” the first officer said, reaching out to shift Randal’s jacket until his sidearm peeked out.

  “I’m registered to carry it,” Randal said.

  “And the rest of you?” asked one of the other officers from the other side of their little group.

  “Aye, sir. Anyone here with weapons has a registration card. Would you like to examine them all?”

  “What’s your business here?” asked the first officer, not much interested in paperwork.

  “We’re looking for a crewmember of ours that got separated from the group,” Jack said, keeping as close to the truth as he could.

  “Is that so?” The officer didn’t sound as though he believed them. “Wouldn’t that crewmember know to go back to your boat?”

  “Ship,” mumbled one of the crewmembers.

  Jack glared at his group, unsure who had been stupid enough to correct a grouchy police officer.

  “The one missing is an I.S.,” Kat said before Jack could turn his attention back to the conversation.

  “Kat,” he growled, giving her his darkest glare.

  “An I.S.? Is that so? He run away?” asked the second officer as he pulled out his portable connection to their electronic system, preparing to look up Bit’s number.

  Jack cleared his throat. “No, she just got lost. We’re handling it.”

  “So you haven’t reported it?”

  “No, sir. She didn’t run away. She’s just lost.”

  “That’s what they all say. What’s her number?”

  Jack ground his teeth together before rattling off Bit’s number. The officer typed it in and clicked a few more buttons.

  “There, now we can all look out for her, too,” said the officer in a voice dripping with insincerity.

  Jack worked to control his glare. “Thank you, officer.”

  The three officers sauntered away. Before they were out of earshot, Jack heard them laughing among themselves. He turned on his XO.

  “What were you thinking?” snapped Jack.

  “I just thought this way they can be looking for her, too.”

  “Do you have any idea what they do to renegade indentured servants?”

  Katrina shrugged, the darkness of the street hiding her features.

  “Go to the ship. You are on probation.”

  “Jack, you can’t be…”

  “That’s Captain to you. Now hustle your ass up to the ship and wait for our return.”

  Kat glared at him for a long moment before stomping away, kicking up dust with each step.

  “Is it really that bad?” asked Calen.

  “She just painted a target on the back of Bit’s head,” whispered Oden.

  Bit limped onward. One foot in front of the other. One foot.

  Her knee was bruised and swollen, hurting each time she put her weight on it. The sun had set and was beginning to rise again, but she kept limping forward. She was just entering the suburb of Dobsonville, where Delci had suggested looking for Douglas. She wanted to stop at a hotel, but she didn’t have the money to throw away on luxuries like a bed.

  Another gunshot echoed off the tall buildings, and a dog barked in response. Bit flinched. Despite taking on the ring leader of the governing gang—and winning—she suddenly felt the fear of a normal young woman wandering through a darkened slum. She knew her knee and her bruised back would keep her from fighting her best, and only her very best would keep her alive.

  Then again, quick reflexes and hard punches wouldn’t protect her from a bullet.

  Finally, Bit turned into a dark alleyway filled with rotting garbage and discarded iron drums. She climbed over the piles of garbage, wincing as she grazed her knee on a hovercar hubcap. She made it over the first pile of debris, finding a little nook up against the nearest building between two larger piles of refuse. She hunkered down, poking a bag until the sharp corner of a box was covered in soft mush. A little ruffling sound coming from her left made her flinch until a small rodent scurried out of its small cave of waste, skittered over her feet, and disappeared into the next pile.

  Bit leaned into the fiber bag, trying to close her senses from the smells and sounds surrounding her. She needed to rest while she could, but each new shout or thump made her tense with fresh stress. Slowly, the sounds faded and Bit settled into a restless sleep.

  When she woke, the sun was up, glaring through the haze. The garbage smelled was worse than she remembered, and her empty stomach turned with each breath. Bit stretched out her knee, grimacing as the tight muscles screamed in protest.

  Slowly, she climbed to her feet, tossing her backpack over her shoulder. She needed a shower and a place to change, especially after sleeping tucked between two bags of rotting garbage, but that luxury would have to wait until she had at least made some progress.

  Bit climbed over the pile of waste, groaning as her knee struggled to bend. She reached the other side and dropped to the ground, her knee and back rioting against her efforts. Limping forward, she joined the crowd in the street, struggling toward the center of the suburb.

  She spotted a little “whole in the wall” restaurant and ducked in.

  “Just one?” the woman asked, a small child strapped to her front with a swath of discolored cloth.

  Bit nodded.

  She followed the woman to a tiny table with two chairs, taking one for herself and retrieving the menu from the tabletop.

  “Yell when you’re ready,” the wom
an replied, brushing her long locks of raven black hair out of her face.

  Like Rudy’s second, the woman had a hint of the exotic in her darker skin. Bit sighed, wishing the world could go back to the days when diversity provided a beautiful palate of colors, each one perfect in its own way. Now, nearly everyone looked alike. It was extremely rare to see a truly black person or a red head. All those unique traits had slowly been bred out as the various races intermarried. Bit knew it was a sign of greater unification of various races, but she would have like to have seen the world three hundred years ago.

  Bit thought of Jeremiah, the third engineer on the ship. He was slightly darker than her waitress. She wondered what his family tree looked like. Bit let out a long sigh. Her complete disconnect from her father meant she would never know about her own ancestors.

  Why are you thinking about this? her mind asked, snapping her back to the present and her precarious situation.

  Bit looked at the small menu. There weren’t a lot of options, and some of them had recently been scratched out with a faded marker. A “rat stick” was an option, and Bit winced at the thought of what it might be. Finally, she settled on the protein shake, assuming she was better off not knowing what sort of protein they had scrounged up.

  Ignorance is bliss, she thought to herself as she raised her hand.

  After a few minutes, she turned back to realize the woman was busy adjusting the child to her other breast. Bit waited until she was finished before calling to her.

  “What?” the woman asked.

  “I’ll take the protein shake. And do you know a Douglas Zandri? He used to live ‘round these parts.”

  “What do I look like, a directory?”

  “Well, do you know who might remember him?” Bit asked, ignoring the waitress’ rudeness.

  “I’d ask Roder, he cuts hair over at the beauty shop in the next block, and’s the biggest gossip in town.”