by Martin Tays
“Yes, sir. Will that be all?”
“That should be it. End routine.” Valentine considered his underling. “You’re looking a bit pale, Mister Grace. Perhaps something didn’t agree with you?”
Despite himself, Grace looked again toward his boss. He shuddered very discretely and said “That’s… very probably it, sir. I will have my ‘nannies run a routine check as soon as possible.”
“Do so, Mister Grace. After all, if you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything. You may go.”
“Oh, thank you, sir.” He turned and rushed from the room.
☼
“Now let me get this straight. We’re going to steal a what?”
Moses shook his head at Ami’s question, but didn’t look up from his work. “We’re the good guys, remember? We don’t steal things. We reappropriate, possibly, but we don’t steal.”
Ami stopped pacing and dropped into the seat across from him. “Fine. Allow me to restate: We’re going to reappropriate a what?”
“It’s just a small hospital.”
“Fah.”
“Feh.”
“Sorry. Feh.” Ami looked surprised. “Hey, you’re right… it does work.”
“Be sure to thank No the next time you see him.” Moses looked across the table. “You do understand why, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course I do. It just seems so…”
“Wrong?”
She shook her head. “No, worse. It seems tacky.”
“And you’re right, I suppose.” Moses smiled. “It is tacky. But the med module on the Endeavour is sadly out of date. They… um, we, I mean… are going to need an up to date unit. And a brand spanking new deep space zero g medical unit whose purchaser backed out of the deal is just what the doctor ― you should pardon the phrase ― ordered.”
Ami reached out and ran her hand idly over the privacy field unit that Cath had provided for them. Ami believed that the stocky little engineer was just being paranoid, but didn’t believe it enough to not use the unit. Neither of them had noticed the brief little puff of smoke in the corner of the room when she had activated it earlier.
She finally looked up, a pained look on her face. “They’re not going to take us, are they?”
Moses froze for a brief instant before answering in an almost perfectly normal tone of voice. “Of course not. They assumed I’d be too stupid…”
“Or too drunk.”
“Thank you so much for your valuable input.” He paused, then nodded. “True, though it’d most likely be both. I would theoretically never notice that they were just setting me up. They grab the ship and run off, and I get to stay behind and face that ass Valentine.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And nothing’s changed.”
Ami leaned back and crossed her arms, staring at Moses. “So…”
When she didn’t continue, he glanced over at her. “Why?”
Ami didn’t reply, just nodded jerkily.
“I do like conversational shorthand.” He looked back down at the table. “Because someone has got to do it. I mean do what they’re doing. And that weasel fucking son of a bitch…” the phrase had instantly become the accepted way to refer to Rafe within Moses’ occasionally merry little band of helpers, “… has actually put together an outstanding crew of people. A crew that is ― not coincidentally ― fiercely loyal to him.”
Moses still hadn’t looked back up. Ami finally reached out and grabbed his chin, pulling it up to look him in the eye. “It’s wrong, you know.”
“Yeah? So?” He pulled away and stood up, jamming his hands into his back pockets as he looked over toward Ami. “Pop quiz. How long ago was a new stellar system explored by man?”
She threw her stylus across the room. “Damn it, I know that. I know all that. You’re… speaking to the choir?”
“Preaching. Someone…” Moses pulled a hand out and waved it vaguely toward the ceiling. “Has to go out there. Go out there and find things.”
“You used to write inspirational posters, didn’t you?”
He snorted. “You’ve been hanging around me too much. You’ve developed an unhealthy sense of humor.”
She leaned back and smiled up at him. “That’s right ― I’ve been meaning to thank you for that.”
He briefly, distractedly, smiled back before returning to the subject. “The thing is this. Even before — before the signal, I mean — we needed to start exploring again. Rafe and his hand picked band of brigands were, honestly, the best possible choices in the matter. Now… well, it’s even more important.”
“Yeah, but… do you really want that weasel fucking son of a bitch to be the first specimen of humanity that an alien race meets?”
Moses sighed, then walked over and slumped into his chair before replying. “No. Not particularly. But he’ll do a reasonably decent job. He knows he’ll have to.”
“So…” Ami paused, then asked in a quiet tone of voice, “What are you going to do when they’re gone?”
Moses shrugged. “Probably get stinking drunk.”
“Thought so.” She smiled. “Want some company?”
“I think that’d be sweet of you.”
“My pleasure.” She pointed toward the open vid windows. “So why is it we can’t just buy this medical unit?”
“Two reasons.” Moses replied, grateful for the change of subject. “Well, three, really. First, of course, is where are we going to get the money? Even discounted as it is the damn thing’s expensive. Second, we can’t afford to have a paper trail pointing at us.” Even after generations of purely electronic documentation, the phrase remained.
“And third?”
“Third is that there’s a state of the art nanotech factory on board that module.” He gestured toward the open data window in front of him. “It’s made for a mining unit that’s expected to work out in the ass end of nowhere, so it has to be prepared for anything. That level of technology is very carefully controlled.”
Ami cocked an eyebrow at him. “Erm… if it’s that heavily controlled, don’t you think they might, oh, notice that someone’s walked off with it?”
Moses grinned. “Who says they’ll notice? That’s what Mattie is for.”
“Aha!” She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “That’s why you had her off in the corner! You know, you could have just let us all in on what’s going on. Don’t get me wrong… I think you’re cute when you’re being all mysterious…”
“Sorry. Deniability, I suppose, and compartmentalization.” He shrugged, embarrassed. “But mainly I just didn’t have a chance to explain. Mattie and No are today playing the parts of Movie Moguls.”
Ami put her head in her hands. “Moses, dear, we have got to work on your evil schemes.”
☼
“So precisely how precise did you need this, lady?”
“Extremely.” Mattie’s response was exact and controlled. “We will be doing close-ups, you know.”
It was not the prettiest of offices, but then GalacTite Industries wasn’t the largest manufacturing firm in the orbiting industrial hub. Or the second or third, for that matter. Mattie and Moses had chosen the company specifically because they were about a week from insolvency. Few people that close to losing their businesses are going to ask too many questions.
“I see.” Guido Moore was the owner, and a third of the staff of the company. He looked down at the specs. “Shouldn’t be a problem, I guess. None of it’ll work, of course.”
“Obviously.” Mattie looked very efficient and very unapproachable in her dark blue business suit. She’d swept in to the deserted offices a few minutes before, waving a datatab filled with schematics purloined from MedTech Manufacturing’s polite and only slightly desperate sales info for the hospital unit.
No ho
vered behind her, dark glasses and his normal aloof look nailing him as the prototypical movie industry assistant. He clutched a large workboard pcomp and made a few notes, but mainly he just looked around and sneered occasionally.
Guido poked the diagram floating in front of him. “You know, we can spiff this up for you if you want. It looks kind of… boring.”
“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “Thank you, no. We’re striving for as much accuracy as possible.”
“Accuracy, huh?” The business owner glanced up at Mattie. “Are you sure you work in the movies?”
“Very funny. No, laugh for me.”
“Ha.” Said No, who then returned to his important sneering duties.
“Okay, fine, lady. But don’t forget that precision’s gonna cost you.” He named a figure.
Somewhere deep inside Mattie a tiny voice screamed at the amount ― it ate up most of the ‘discretionary fund’ provided by Rafe. Outwardly she was unmoved. “That is acceptable. I will pay you half now, and half upon delivery.”
The businessman pointed toward the specs. “Interior and exterior?”
“The interior will not be necessary. However, from the outside I want that unit to be indistinguishable from the original. For verisimilitude.”
“Versmila… yeah. What you said.” He nodded. “Okay. I can have the matrix laid by tomorrow, and it’ll be about another two days for the nanites to complete the manufacturing process.”
Mattie handed him a credit chip. “Very well. We plan to begin shooting this weekend, and I do not want to be the one to explain to Stephen why his shoot will have to be delayed.”
Guido’s looked up, eyes wide. “Stephen? Really? You don’t mean…”
Mattie cut him off sharply. “You will not repeat that name.” They’d actually chosen it carefully ― there were currently a half dozen popular directors whose first names were Stephen. As long as they didn’t provide any more info the business owner could assume it was whichever one he pleased.
“Of course not.” He mimed locking his lips. “Mums the word. You can count on me.” He finished processing the transaction and handed the credit chip back to Mattie. “Say…” He added diffidently, “… you know, I used to act back in College.”
“Indeed? You do have that look about you. I will bring your name to Ste… to his attention.”
“Wow. That’d be farb.”
Mattie paused while gathering her things, then looked over to No. “Huh. Ami’s right. Some people just shouldn’t use that word.” She turned back to Guido. “I will contact you in three days concerning the delivery.”
“Great! I’ll talk to you then!”
She nodded, turned, and swept regally out of the office, No in tow. Guido considered the closed door for a moment, then opened a comm circuit. When his wife answered, he spoke breathlessly. “Guess what? I’m going to be in a movie!”
☼
The huge hanger was pressurized, allowing them to work in shirtsleeves. It was also warmed to a relatively decent temperature, but Cath could not have told that by the chill emanating from the other side of the unit.
Sandar had not, actually, said anything about the incident at the restaurant. However, her actions since had spoken volumes. She’d been unfailingly polite and unbelievably distant.
Cath sighed and closed the access hatch. She stood carefully in the moon’s low gravity and grippy shoe walked around to the other side. Sandar was slowly and meticulously going through a diagnostic routine on the control circuitry for the huge drive unit that arched above them.
Cath stood there a moment, staring at Sandar’s back. Finally, she cleared her throat. Sandar froze, very briefly, then returned to work.
Cath finally spoke. “We need to talk.”
For a long moment Sandar said nothing. Finally, without turning, she replied. “What about?”
Cath stuck her hands into her coverall pockets and didn’t, quite, scuff her feet. “Look, I’m sorry.”
Sandar turned, finally, and looked at her. After a long moment, she turned back to work, speaking into the panel. “What for? You didn’t do anything to me.”
“Damn it, you know what I mean.” Cath stared at the back of her head. “Moses. It obviously bothered you.”
“Bothered me?” Sandar snapped. “Why should it bother me that you ripped the head off what seems to be a very nice man and shit down his throat? That you utterly humiliated him in front of what appears to be the only friends he has in the world? And his girlfriend? And me?” She slammed the panel door closed so hard it bounced back open. Standing, she braced her feet, and slammed it closed again. She considered the closed hatch thoughtfully, then pulled it open so she could slam it a third time.
Turning, she picked up her bag of diagnostic instruments and strode past Cath, speaking out of the corner of her mouth. “Nope. Didn’t bother me at all. Why?”
Cath stared at her rigid and retreating back sadly. “Wait.” Very quietly. There was no response. “Please?” She added.
Sandar paused, but didn’t turn.
Cath walked up to her and put a hand, carefully, on her shoulder. The girl flinched a bit, but didn’t pull away.
“Listen.” Cath’s voice was pained. “You… Moses is… you just don’t understand.”
Sandar shrugged the hand off of her shoulder and turned to face her. “Of course I don’t understand. So? Here’s what I do understand.” She spun to look Cath in the face. “I like you. I mean, I really like you. I could probably do more. I could probably love you.”
Despite the situation, Cath drew in a breath at that.
Breaking eye contact, Sandar turned and spoke off into the distance. “Look… in a lot of ways I’m a pretty simple person. I haven’t traveled a lot, I haven’t seen a lot, I’m really a bit of a country girl. A hick. There’s a whole lot of things that I don’t know.” She turned back suddenly.
“But?”
Sandar smiled briefly. “But. I’ve spent a fair amount of time staring at the sky… through radio dishes, through optical telescopes, and using the good old mark one eyeball. Do you know what I found?”
Cath chuckled. “Well, yes, as a matter of fact I do.”
“Jesus, Cath, you know what I mean!” Cath paused, then shook her head in reply.
“Sorry. No, I guess you don’t. What I found, before anything else, was that there’s a whole lot of empty out there. And just a tiny amount of us.” Sandar raised an arm and pointed a finger accusingly at her. “And then I watched you slash a man to the bone — one you’ve known for literally hundreds of years ― for the sake of a cheap laugh. It was beneath you.”
Cath closed her eyes. After a deep breath, she opened them again. “We were lovers, once, you know.”
Sandar’s eyes widened. She looked at the end of her finger suspiciously before replying. “Huh. That’s… somehow, that’s not the response I was expecting.”
“It was on that first trip out here. Obviously. Pairings, and tanglings, and gossipy romantic situations were about all anyone had to pass the time. I’d just broken up from my latest life long relationship. Moses wasn’t near the bottle jockey he developed into later in life, and he and I had actually become pretty decent friends. He was being a friend… one I desperately needed at the time.”
“But…” Sandar looked confused. “You’re…”
“Yeah.” Cath nodded. “So he certainly wasn’t my type, nor was I his. It was comfort sex. He was unfailingly polite, and well mannered, and he has the cutest little mole on his…”
“Oh, dear God, please stop.” Sandar was waving frantically.
“Too much information?”
She shuddered. “I’m never going to be able to look him in the face again without wondering where.”
“It’s about this
big and…”
“NO! Thank you. No.” She finally dropped her arm, cocking her head to look quizzically at the older woman. “You really do care for him, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Cath looked up at her and grinned sardonically. “Why else do you think I’m so angry at what he’s become?”
Sandar shook her head. “No, you’re angry at what he was. That matters now why, exactly?”
Cath blinked. “Um, well, um… crap. You’re a bright young lady, you know that?” This time, she did shuffle her feet. “So who do I ask for forgiveness?”
Sandar crossed her arms. “Well, yourself, for starters.”
Cath snorted. “That’s very Zen of you.”
“My Mothers’ influence, I’m afraid. Still true, nonetheless.” She grinned a real grin this time. “And me, possibly, if you’ve a mind to.”
“Please?”
“Done.” She nodded matter of factly. “And, of course…”
Cath heaved a sigh. “Moses.”
“Yep. Publicly.”
“Crap. You’re a mean drunk, Superman.”
“Buh?”
“Never mind.” Cath waved her hand. “Punch line to an old joke.”
Sandar looked at her blankly. “You seem to have more in common with Moses than I think you’re willing to admit. Should I be jealous?”
Cath looked up, an appalled expression on her face.
The dark haired girl paused a moment, staring at the engineer. She then stepped over and kissed Cath full on the lips. It was a brief kiss, but electric. Cath was not quite sure that her hair didn’t stand on end. Her toes certainly curled.
Sandar stepped away and picked the bag of instruments back up. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled. “So, are we going to finish this diagnostic, or not?” She glided off to the far end of the propulsion unit.
