Spaced

by Greg Curtis

  “What misdeeds?!” Carm was confused for a moment. Then he saw the look in her eyes and understood. “For the last time, I am not apologising for dropping you off on Clover Fields Base. You got back alright as you said you would. Next!” She'd just thrown that in there hoping to ruin his morning.

  “It was still a rotten thing to do!”

  She pouted at him, and Carm had to admit it was almost a cute expression for her. But he wasn't giving in to cute from a mute. “Next!”

  “You'll be acting as contact and escort for refugees for the next year.”

  “What?!” That was new, and totally out of left field. He didn't want the duty – his intention was to do this once, then let everything sort itself out. Someone else could collect the mutes escaping the Commonwealth and escort them to Eden after that. He didn't even have the coordinates for their world, and neither did he want them. He didn't even enjoy having the mutes on his ship. They might be law-abiding and even peaceful but they were still mutes. They could hurt or kill him far too easily.

  “I'm an extra-solar geologist. I have a business to get back to. Plus I have a family to find. Besides the Nightingale isn't set up for passengers anyway.”

  “The ship is being refitted as we speak with improved life-support and the cabins are being fitted out. It's also being serviced thoroughly. And you have been interfering in an Edenite Enforcement Operation, and failed to obey the instructions of a marshal. Then there's the reckless endangerment of thirty-one Edenites by abandoning them on an unknown world against the specific instructions of a marshal. We could instead talk about pressing charges.” She smiled sweetly at him.

  “You never identified yourself as a marshal! And I didn't endanger anyone! You said you could make contact with your people from there! And I am not an Edenite – your laws don't apply to me.”

  “Really? You think our law doesn't apply? When your offences were against Edenites? But I'm sure you can argue those finer legal points at your trial in say … a year or two. The courts are rather backed up at the moment and these are serious charges. It will take time to get all the details worked out.”

  “That's extortion!” Carm nearly exploded at the outrageousness of what she was saying.

  “Accusing a marshal of impropriety? Do you have some evidence to back that up? Or is that a false accusation made knowingly? Because I must advise you that that would also be an offence.”

  Carm spluttered for a bit as he tried thinking of something to say, but nothing came. He couldn't accept that anything she said could possibly be an actual offence, or that anyone would even think of charging him with it let alone prosecuting him for it. But he didn't know Edenite law. And he did understand determination. The woman wasn't joking.

  “Relax. Edenite Enforcement is always willing to consider public service as part of a plea in mitigation. And the Council won't accept anyone else in the role. Besides you will be compensated. This isn't negotiable so stop your moaning.”

  “Everything's negotiable.” Carm wasn't having that. “Ship back me up.”

  “Me mush brain? If I've told you once I've told you a thousand times – you should never speak to women. You just don't seem to have the ability to do it without angering them. This is entirely your own fault!”

  “Shards!” Carm should have known better than to ask the ship for help he supposed. Though it was happier now, it still had grievances it wanted to air.

  “Marshal, will you need me to testify? Because I have endless files on Carmichael. And all of them show a man mentally unfit to be in charge of a starship. In fact I don't think he could really be held accountable for any crimes. He's simply not responsible for his actions.”

  “Ship!” Carm commanded, but it wasn't listening. It wasn't going to listen.

  “What he needs is a nice lengthy stay in a treatment facility, a place where the doctors can really get to grips with all his problems. Drugs. Counselling. Lots of bed rest. I mean you saw what he did to that rusting pile of used floater parts that called itself an android. Does that strike you as the workings of a well-balanced mind?”

  “She was trying to kill me!”

  “And I'm sure it had its reasons Carmichael. Have you never thought that you drove it to that point? That you broke it?!”

  “I said that's enough ship!” Finally he stopped it speaking but the damage had been done. What sort of a ship wouldn't even back its own captain? Del was openly laughing at him, so hard that tears were streaming down her cheeks. And she kept laughing while he had to sit there and take it. It was a very long time before she finally regained control of herself.

  “I'm sharding well not doing it.”

  “Oh relax! You are and you know it. You'll get through a year easily enough. And we all have to make sacrifices.”

  Del seemed completely uninterested in his refusal. Or in what he wanted. But what else was new? And what exactly were the sacrifices she was making? Foolishly he asked.

  “I'm sitting here talking to you aren't I?”

  Chapter Thirty Five

  The descent into the atmosphere was smooth. Clearly some of the work the Edenites had done to the ship had been valuable. They'd fixed the stabilisers for a start. But perhaps it was the difference between landing by automation and having a pilot. Carm didn't know – he’d never had a pilot before.

  He would have preferred not to have one, and not to have any crew either – or for that matter most of the changes which had been made. There was no doubt the majority were beneficial, but it wasn't his ship anymore. Of course the ship would have been outraged if he’d suggested removing them. He felt as if he’d been usurped as owner and captain.

  Maybe he had been – the changes he hated most were the two new chairs beside him. He might not be a psychologist but even he understood that they were command chairs and that he was surrounded. A crew in front of him, their heads partially blocking his view of the holo, the Provost on his left and the Counsel on his right and even a marshal standing watch behind. And by mutes... or Edenites as he reminded himself for the thousandth time.

  Soon it would be worse, when the thirty newly-refurbished cabins, each with two double beds, would be filled with passengers. Edenites. If the negotiations went well as everyone except him seemed to expect that would be repeated for six long months, perhaps a year. His negotiations were still ongoing. Del though seemed to think that they were done and he'd lost.

  Before that happened though they had to get through this sharding meeting, one which would be viewed by the entire Commonwealth.

  Why? Why did it have to be so public? He hadn't wanted that. It could have been private, with just representatives of the Commonwealth and Eden attending to agree a simple deal releasing all the prisoners and letting them go home. A quiet, easy exchange, which let everyone get on with their lives – him most of all. Instead it had to be announced. The Counsel – a politician– had decided. And even while Carm had been trying to think of a good argument against it, the announcement had been made. After that his course had been set, as well as his future as a mesh-lord.

  “Ship, keep a close watch for traffic.” Carm had said it before, but he was still worried. This was potentially one of the most watched landings in Aquarian history and, as well as the channels who knew the rules, there would be citizen reporters everywhere. Few would be this high up though – this was territory reserved for flyers only. But as they descended into floater territory he expected they would be surrounded. Every sharding idiot with a holo and a basic licence would be out there trying to get as close as possible. If one of them cut in front the Nightingale wasn't as nimble as a floater. In space, big had right of way.

  Perhaps they should have gone for a straight floating descent on antigravity after all. It would have been slower, burnt too much fuel and the stabilisers would have been completely useless as they had to keep the ship the right way up purely through thruster control, but at least running into fools in floaters would h
ave been less of a concern.

  “You've already said that Carmichael.”

  “I know. I'm just worried.” Carm winced at the words, waiting for the sarcastic retort. He shouldn’t have made such an open comment. But the retort never came.

  The ship was back to being polite, more or less. Perhaps that was because it had got everything it wanted – a proper service and inspection plus a captain who wasn't making decisions it didn't like. Carm wasn't really making any decisions anymore, he was just along for the ride. A spacer well and truly caught in a solar wind and the ship appeared to approve.

  No one else seemed concerned. The crew were calm. The Provost on his left was always calm. And the Counsel on his right was almost serene. Perhaps they were always like that but it was better than being worried.

  “A reception committee awaits us,” the ship announced a few minutes later. It showed them the feed from the field in case they didn't understand.

  That isn’t a reception committee, Carm thought as he stared at the holo, it’s a horde. Thousands of people were there, all crushed together, and only being held back by a thin strip fence and a line of police. Massive numbers of citizen reporters were there, and every one of them had a holo-recorder running. In the middle of the throng was a narrow corridor, held apart by fences on both sides. Standing in it, waiting patiently for them, were dignitaries. He made out the Mayor of New Andreas, any number of high ranking police officers in their bright blue, more politicians, and even the Prime Minister. Standing behind them all were floater buses.

  Carm felt uneasy. He knew none of these people, and more to the point he didn't want to know them. Yet he was expected to make introductions?

  There was one amusing piece of irony in the scene when he noted their landing point. It was new concrete, a massive circular section of it, and he knew that it was where he'd jumped from. They were returning to the exact berth from which they'd left, coming full circle. That was unexpected, especially since the space-port had been bombed and was still full of craters and burnt-out ships. This section of it had survived and someone had considered landing there a good idea.

  “Thirty thousand and five hundred,” the pilot announced, informing them they’d just moved into the highest floater level. It was slow going – five hundred klicks was the minimum speed the ship could travel and still get any reasonable support from the stabilisers. He wouldn't plot that flight path. But Carm was no pilot, having always depended on the ship to do the hard work, and they had a trained one onboard.

  Some quick calculations told him they had about ninety clicks more to travel, or about ten minutes. Ten minutes before he got to make a fool of himself in front of billions of people.

  But at least the slower-moving floaters were staying away. There were a lot of them, in increasing numbers as they descended, but it was clear that someone had had a word about safety. None were attempting to get in front of them.

  Time passed, strangely too fast and too slow simultaneously, but eventually Carm made out the spaceport in the distance. He could even distinguish people and the berth in the ship's own viewer. It would have been hard to miss a crowd that large. In the meantime their speed was decreasing markedly as thrusters took control. From here it would be a combination of those and anti-gravity, but the pilot appeared to know exactly what he was doing. Carm didn't even feel a wobble while descending, not even when they finally came to a stop a couple of hundred metres above their berth and the landing struts were lowered.

  After that it was a straight descent to finally settle on the berth as lightly as a leaf. The pilot was good.

  “Nice landing,” Carm acknowledged the pilot's skill as he got up, not even sure if it was his place to do so. He was still the Captain of the ship – in theory – but these weren't his crew. Still it seemed like the thing to do.

  “Counsel, Provost, we should head to the ramp.” He could have said ‘face the firing squad’ which was more or less how he was feeling, but he doubted they would have been pleased by the comment. However they seemed happy enough to follow him off the bridge to the central stairs, down two storeys, and then to the passenger ramp. Neither of them said a word.

  “Shards!” At the top of the ramp Carm stopped for a moment, stunned by the sight greeting him. He'd never seen that many people in one place before. And he'd certainly never had to go out and greet them. Then after taking a deep breath he led the party out, secretly wondering if it was too late to run screaming.

  “You should have worn a suit.” Del whispered as they walked down the ramp to the waiting dignitaries. He hadn't even noticed that she was there.

  “I am – a ship suit! You should be grateful I'm wearing shoes!” She was probably right considering that the Mayor of New Andreas and the Prime Minister of Aquaria and other important people were waiting to meet them. But the wardrobe choice was intentional. He had a reason for not wearing a proper suit – he was only the bus driver and he wanted to make that clear.

  His role was purely to get people from A to B, make some introductions, and not get involved in anything else. Besides the ship suit was comfortable and clean. The marshals’ uniforms might be smart but they didn't look that comfortable, not with the collars done up. As for the Counsel's suit it resembled a straitjacket more than anything else.

  On the ground he turned left and walked directly to the assembled dignitaries, doing his best not to look either right or left. He tried to look calm too, though he wasn't so sure he was making a good job of it. At least he kept his knees from shaking too badly. And then, seventy-five metres and a million years later, he was standing face to face with the Mayor of New Andreas.

  “Mayor Totopolis, I'd like to introduce you to Counsel La Roux of the Eden Senate.” Carm made the introduction as he'd practised, infinitely grateful that he hadn’t messed it up. And even more grateful that the Mayor didn't ask him any questions about the Counsel. He didn't know any more about him or the political system on Eden than the Mayor did. They had a Senate composed of Counsels. That was the extent of his knowledge.

  “I'm pleased to meet you Counsel La Roux and on behalf of my city I welcome you to New Andreas.” The Mayor offered his hand and it was accepted without hesitation in a gesture that pre-dated space travel.

  “And I'm glad to be here, in the hope that we can put this recent unpleasantness behind us.” The Counsel smiled in what looked like a remarkably sincere gesture.

  “And this is Provost Marshal Drummond of Eden Enforcement.”

  The Provost managed a polite smile, a nod, a handshake and a few words as had the Counsel, and then they were off, heading for the Prime Minister. That really shook Carm. He'd seen the Mayor before, at social events and functions when Carm the businessman had also been there. They'd never spoken, save when he'd been awarded his mercantile award and the Mayor had said a few words. But the Prime Minister? He'd only seen him on holos. This man was in charge of a hundred million people, living in the capitol Villa Aquaria, thousands of klicks away. He probably spent most of his time shaking the hands of other political movers and shakers. A mere extra-solar geologist was surely a long way beneath him.

  “Prime Minister, it's an honour to meet you,” Carm didn't know what else to say, going off-script. He was simply supposed to be making the introductions.

  “The honour's mine. You saved a lot of our people with your actions Doctor, and all of Aquaria owes you a debt.”

  “Ahh … no … they don't.” Carm spluttered, desperately searching something intelligent to say before he finally remembered his lines.

  “Prime Minister, this is Counsel La Roux of the Eden Senate,” he gestured to the Counsel and then let him make his own introduction. The others were much better at it than he was anyway. And once they were done he introduced the Provost.

  After that he felt pure relief. His work was done. Except that it wasn't. As he stood to one side, congratulating himself on not having made a complete botbrain of himself, Carm notice
d the long line of dignitaries behind the Prime Minister, all waiting to be greeted: more politicians, heads of various departments, the head of the Spacer's Guild, and so many more. It seemed that everyone had come for the day, and all of them expected their introduction and greeting.

  So, after a few moments taking it all in, he started down the line, followed by the Provost and a couple of marshals. The Counsel didn't follow, but then Carm figured, he wouldn't. He was the representative of one world meeting with the representative of another. Naturally he would stay where he was, speaking with the Prime Minister. The two of them weren't going to be disturbed.

  Thus began a slow march down the line, made all the slower by the fact that Carm knew very few of those he was shaking hands with. He recognised some faces but that was it. They introduced themselves, which he suspected could be a failure of etiquette on his part. Occasionally, though, he would recognise someone. And one of those people was Detective Samara, sitting in a floater chair, bandaged from head to foot and covered in regenerative goo.

  “Detective!” Carm was surprised to see her especially by the state she was in. Annalisse looked as if she'd been through half a dozen floater crashes. “You look like you've been through the wars.”

  A moment later Carm turned red as he realised she had been. He’d failed to follow up on what had happened to her, but there was one very obvious reason why the police would look beaten up. “Oh shards! I'm sorry. I didn't think.”

  “That's alright,” she smiled– an expression that didn't go naturally on a face covered in so many bruises and surgical scars. “I am something of a floater crash, and the doctors didn't want me to come. But I wanted to be here to thank you.”

  “Thank me?” Carm was confused.

  “You saved my life. A lot of lives.”

  “Oh!” Carm was caught by surprise but moments later he realised what she’d meant. The moment their masters had realised that the information they were so desperately trying to hide was out there they’d had released the battlefield. And, rightly or wrongly, she thought that was because of him. “I just wish I could have been faster.”