by J. S. Volpe
Reynard strode down the long white corridor toward Elevator A223 on Level 38 of the Monolith-Class Astrocruiser Haven. The inner pocket of his polychromatic vest was heavy with the bug-popper porn crystals he planned to give to Hem Sithawoo, head of small-vehicle maintenance in Level 499’s three-mile-wide hangar. In return for the crystals, Hem promised to sign over to Reynard an Atom-Class Cruiser currently slated for recycling. The cruiser was one of the old non-sentient models, but Reynard planned to modify it to resemble a modern sentient one. The voice issuing from the ship’s onboard speakers, however, would be his own, remotely broadcast from a secure location where he could also monitor the ship’s occupants via various sensors hidden onboard. This was only one fragment of an insanely elaborate plan to engineer the utter ruination of Arzt ba ta Kuweimorai, the Intergalactic Senate’s Assistant Secretary of Trade.
He stopped at the smooth white elevator door and pressed the Up button. With a brief cheery chime, the door slid open after only five seconds, a bit of unexpected luck that made him smile. With over four thousand levels on a ship of this size, the wait for the elevators could be excruciating, despite the hyper-fast MetaShell technology that powered them.
As he stepped into the empty compartment, he heard a weak, wavering voice say, “Hold on, please.”
He turned. A tiny old lady in an iridescent pink robe was hobbling down the corridor toward him. When she saw that he had seen her, she smiled and nodded as if he had already sworn to hold the elevator. Of course. Because everyone was in this together, and that meant doing good deeds for your fellow travelers through life.
Reynard returned her smile, then pressed the button for Level 499. He caught a quick glimpse of the woman’s smile collapsing into a gape of shock an instant before the door slid shut between them.
He chuckled as the elevator streaked upward, the only sign of its ascent being the changing of the large luminous numbers on the wall. The levels raced by so fast only every fourth number appeared. He loved this new technology. He would be at the hangar in about ten seconds unless…
The numbers stopped at 52.
“Shit,” he hissed.
With another chime, the door opened, and Solace started to step aboard, casting him one of those automatic smiles you give strangers you’re forced to briefly associate with. When she saw it was Reynard, however, she froze right in the middle of the doorway, her eyes the size of planets. Reynard was likewise frozen, his mouth agape, no doubt looking exactly like the old woman down on Level 38 when he closed the elevator door on her.
Reynard regained his composure first. “You’d better get inside,” he said. “You don’t want to get snipped in two by the door.”
Which was a joke, of course. Everything in this defanged age had multiple safeguards that prevented anything even remotely unpleasant from happening. He guessed that of everyone on this ship, only he and Solace and maybe a couple of history geeks knew of the days when elevators could actually be dangerous.
Solace acted as if those days were still here. With a clipped yelp, she propelled herself into the car, twisting her head around as she did so to make sure the doors weren’t about to shear off her backside.
Then she remembered the safeness of things, and gave a small, embarrassed laugh.
“Old habits,” she said. She checked the elevator’s destination, then pressed the button for Level 996.
“So how’ve you been?” he asked as the doors closed and the elevator began its ascent anew.
“Fine.” She glanced at him. “You?”
“Good.”
“Good.” She gave a terse nod, then turned to watch the shifting numbers on the wall.
He studied her profile, hoping to gauge her feelings, but her expression was blank, unreadable. Not the greatest sign. Maybe now that she had learned the truth about him she wanted nothing more to do with him. Maybe her helping him escape from Giv-Golos had been, to her, a squaring of accounts and a final act of fellowship in commemoration of all that had gone before. Maybe it had been her way of saying goodbye.
Still, giving up wasn’t his style. Where there’s life, there’s hope.
“So, are you residing on-ship,” he asked, “or just en route somewhere?”
She opened her mouth to reply, then hesitated as if debating with herself whether or not to tell him the truth.
“Technically I’m living here,” she said finally, giving him a cool, even look. “But when we reach Pompulop 9 tomorrow, I’ll be taking off on a long work-related trip.”
“Ah.” Of course. A long trip. How convenient. “What kind of work are you doing these days?”
“I’m with the Outreach Society. You know, the group that works to bring new worlds and species into the Pax Galactica?”
“Ah.”
“Are you living here?”
“No. Just en route…elsewhere.”
“Mm.”
With another chipper little chime, the doors opened. Level 499.
He stepped into the doorway and turned to face her, feeling compelled to place one hand on the edge of the retracted door even though his rational mind knew it wouldn’t budge until its multiple sensor fields detected no obstructions. She wasn’t the only one whose old habits refused to die, it seemed.
“Maybe we could meet before you leave,” he said. “Have dinner or something.”
“Uh…” She glanced at the display on which 499 was now blinking while 996 still glowed steadily beside it. “Sure.”
Was she saying that only to get rid of him? Her still-inscrutable expression made it impossible to tell.
“Solace, look—”
She raised her hands, palms out, and for the first time she gave him what appeared to be a genuine smile.
“Save it for dinner, okay?” she said.
He smiled in return. “Okay. I guess we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
“I guess.” She licked her lips, took a breath as if she were about to do something dangerous, then said, “I’ll meet you in the Black Hole Lounge at six o’clock. You know where that is?”
“I know. Level 1728. Just down from the Pleasure Pyramid, right?”
“Right.”
His smile broadened. “It’s good to see you again, by the way.”
She stared at him in silence a moment, a brittle shine in her eyes that made him wonder if she were about to start crying. But then she made her face return the smile.
“It’s good to see you too,” she said.
“See you at six.”
“Okay.”
Eyes fixed on her all the while, he backed out of the elevator and into a white hallway identical to the one on Level 38. They smiled at each other as the door closed between them. He remained there for several seconds, smile slowly fading, then turned and headed on his way.
