by D. M. Pruden
“I’m going to need some specialized research equipment.”
“Put in an order from the corporate stores.”
I shake my head. “This stuff isn’t in Canto’s warehouse.”
“Where will you find some?”
“I have a source, but it may take some time.”
Chambers winces. “How long?”
“Maybe a day; two at most.”
“That’s two days sitting here waiting for your inspector friend to make his next move.”
“There isn’t much Willis can do,” I say, “except, perhaps, harass and detain members of the crew to try to delay our departure until he finds a better solution.”
“I’ll end shore leave and recall everyone. They won’t like it, though.”
I smile wryly. “I’ll have some booze brought aboard. Tell them the drinks are on me.”
He chuckles. “That won’t scratch every itch.”
“Well, they will just have to get reacquainted with their hand.”
We both laugh at that.
“Roy, if Willis is working for Cabot, our problems won’t go away once we leave Luna. The Jovian Collective will be on our ass like a bad rash. That’s an enemy we don’t need.”
He shrugs. “They already don’t like us, Mel.” After pouring himself a coffee, he says. “You focus on helping the girl and let me worry about them.”
He leaves me in the galley to ponder how I am going to acquire the equipment I need to help Chloe. I am not too crazy about my limited choice.
Chapter Seventeen
One quick call reduces my potential sources for the nano-research equipment to one, and she is the one person I am the most reluctant to approach.
If it weren’t for the severity of Chloe’s dependence, I would say fuck it and wait until we land on Terra. There, I know several researchers with whom I am still on speaking terms who will be amenable to the prospect of augmenting their meagre salaries by helping me out.
But our present schedule has us arriving there on the return, and I am not sure I can keep Chloe alive for the six months that will take. The blue pills Vostok supplied me to feed the ravenous nanites rampaging through her system will run out long before then. I need to synthesize an alternate formulation, a problem in biochemical research I am neither prepared nor adequately qualified to undertake.
The only other solution is to procure another supply of the drug. Unfortunately, the unique source for it is the Jovian Collective, so that isn’t going to work.
So, with no other choice, I endure the three-hour commercial flight to the capital city, Artemis. A cab ride later, I stand before the sparkling white edifice that houses the Lunar Technical Institute. While the Terran Medical Academy is still the gold standard for research in medicine, the LTI is a close second. That is entirely due to the largesse and influence of Luna’s de facto ruler, Regis Mundi.
Wealthier than Croesus, he inspired and financially supported Luna’s rebellion against Terra. Now, he is spending untold billions of credits rebuilding the newly liberated colony into a first-class corporate and scientific centre to rival anything Earth has. It is a lofty dream, and he has accomplished much. I heard rumours that he is a bit of an eccentric, but as I admire the architecture of the entrance to the brand-new research building, it is apparent none of that matters. Most people have some freaky inside. If the stories about him are true, Mundi just chooses to put his on display.
When I present my credentials to the security guard, he studies me skeptically until the computer clears me as an expected guest. His manner becomes all charm as he escorts me to the top floor waiting room and offers me my choice of fancy coffee.
It isn’t too long before the one person on Luna I’d hoped to avoid walks into the room, a welcoming smile on her face.
Tessa Beaumont is almost fifty years old but would pass for a fashion model half that age. The Moon’s gravity and an expensive regimen of anti-aging drugs will likely preserve her in such a state for another thirty years or more. She wears a black tight-fitting but fashionable business skirt, white blouse, and jacket ensemble that does nothing to conceal her figure. Tessa revels in her femininity, and I know from experience how intoxicating and dangerous that can be for those who fall under her spell. Seeing her, I feel like I’ve arrived wearing a burlap sack.
“Melly! I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”
“Tessa.” I stiffly accept her embrace and kiss on each cheek. Her bright red lipstick augments perfect, sensual lips. My heart does a familiar flutter, ignoring my carefully crafted defences as I involuntarily recall the many nights I enjoyed them.
Her manicured hand takes mine, and she leads me into her grandly appointed office. I am invited to sit on a low couch while she goes to the bar across the room.
“Do you still drink cosmos?”
“Sure,” I say distractedly as I note the shelf filled with priceless first-edition twentieth century books. Her enormous desk is empty, devoid of even a data pad, and if there is a computer interface in the office, it is artfully concealed.
Tessa returns to hand me my drink before perching herself on the sofa’s edge, her knee within a centimetre of mine.
She lifts her glass. “To good memories.”
I smile shyly as we clink glasses, then before I realize, I’ve downed half of the cosmo in a single gulp. To her credit, Tessa ignores my crudeness and elects to stare into my eyes, a smile on her face suggesting he recalls a happier time.
Breaking her hypnotic gaze, I gesture to the room. “You seem to have done very well for yourself.”
“After the war ended, I was recruited to start up a nano-research program here. Of course, you already knew that.”
Blushing, I raise my glass in a salute. “Congratulations on your success.”
Gracious as always, she accepts my toast and sips at her drink. “I was very pleased that you called. It goes without saying that the equipment you need is yours.”
“Thank you.” I don’t know what else to say and find words difficult to come by.
“I’ve thought of you often,” she says, her voice silky.
“Me too,” I say, lowering my eyes, too embarrassed to return her gaze.
Tessa was my graduate adviser, a brilliant researcher. I was ecstatic that she chose to work with me over the hundred other applicants. Naturally, I did everything in my limited power to help that decision along.
At my interview, it didn’t take me long to sense her attraction to me. Though I am naturally inclined to the attentions of men, my past played a pivotal role in how I elected to exploit her interest. When I was the property of the sex gang, I was pimped out to both men and women, so it didn’t take much for me to find the right words to pluck her heartstrings and close the deal.
Taking advantage of Tessa is one of the few things from my past I truly regret. Her affection for me was pure and honest, while for three years I played along to get what I needed from her. When I was finally awarded my doctorate, I continued to lead her on for another few months. Having grown fond of her, I was reluctant to break her heart and wanted to let her down easily.
That was when I met Carlos.
Despite my cynicism, acquired from a lifetime of experience, he did to me what I did to Tessa. The only difference was that he felt the same for me.
“I was very sorry to learn what happened to Carlos,” she says, snapping me back to the moment. “I tried to reach out to you, to comfort you, but you’d vanished. I was so worried about you.”
I set my unfinished drink down. “A lot of people lost someone that day. The whole experience...” I gaze into her eyes. “It changed me, Tess, and it wasn’t for the better.”
Her eyes mist over. “You know you were always welcome to come to me, for a shoulder; for support.”
I nod, fighting back my own tears. “I know. I was just too embarrassed by how I hurt you by picking Carlos over you, especially after everything you did for me.”
She smiles and
squeezes my hand. “I didn’t do all that much. You were a brilliant student, Mel. You’d have succeeded with any other adviser. I think I gained more from what we had than you. I count myself fortunate for the unique experience we shared.”
The tears now run down my cheeks. “You’re too good to me, Tessa.”
She reaches over to embrace me. Unbidden, years of regret slough from me in ugly gasps. She just holds me and strokes my hair, rocking us back and forth, letting me have my catharsis.
I release my embarrassment, my regret and guilt. More importantly, I knock down the wall of denial I maintained for years. I long ago resigned myself to what a despicable human being I was for using her like I did. I only now realize, despite my best efforts, that I lost control at some point during our time together and fell in love with her. My pride forced me to deny it, ultimately to my loss.
I pull away and stand. “I’m sorry I came. I should go.”
“Melly.” Her voice is tender. “Please don’t do this to yourself. I’m happy to give you what you need; no expectations or strings attached.”
I wipe my cheeks. “I’ve already used you enough. The machine you’re offering me is—”
“It is surplus equipment, due to be swapped out at the end of the year. If I don’t give it to you, it will gather dust in the basement and be gradually stripped for parts. Besides, something about your message suggested that getting it is very important for you. Are you ill?”
“You got that from my message?”
She smiles. “Give me some credit for knowing you well.”
I return her smile. “No, I’m fine, but another person’s life may depend on it.” I go on to explain Chloe’s problem.
Tessa listens intently, hanging on my every word and nodding. “I’m familiar with some old published research on something similar. Two researchers working out of a lab in South Africa—I don’t recall their names, but I’ll dig it up and forward the publication to you.”
“Thank you.”
She pauses. “You understand that this nanite species you describe exists in violation of half a dozen international treaties.”
“The people who employ them don’t really pay much attention to those types of things.”
“Melly, what sort of thing are you involved in?”
I caress her cheek. “It’s best if you don’t know. I’ll forward the address to deliver the machine.”
She becomes sombre. “Of course. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, you give me far more than I deserve.”
“Will I see you again?”
I grasp her hand and softly kiss her fingers. When finished, I look up into her aqua blue eyes. “I’ll call you when I come back to Luna.”
She smiles and leans over to kiss me on the lips. After only a moment’s hesitation, I return it, pressing my body into hers.
I will miss my return flight to Armstrong, but I can’t say I regret the reason for it.
Chapter Eighteen
There is a lightness to my spirit that I almost forgot I ever before experienced. I haven’t felt this way since my time at the medical academy on Terra.
My brief time there with Carlos was the happiest I’ve ever been, without a doubt. That happiness died with him when he perished in the terror attack. I never thought or desired anything like it to enter to my life again. But the buoyant feeling I presently enjoy, like walking on clouds with a thrill in my heart, is something different. It is an experience I never admitted existed during my time with Tessa, yet on honest reflection had been there.
She was an addiction for me, and I could well imagine allowing myself to happily relapse. It is only the call to my CI from Chambers, wondering where I am, that dulls my intoxication enough for me to recall the reason I travelled to Artemis.
Sadly, I gather my clothing in the early hours of the morning and kiss Tessa softly on her forehead. She stirs but thankfully does not wake, for if she did, I might never find the strength to leave.
Leaving her place, I am like a doe-eyed teenage girl after experiencing her first kiss—or at least how I imagine one would feel. My adolescent years were anything but conducive to that kind of naive innocence.
I barely notice my trip to Artemis spaceport and am hardly rattled by the hassle the ticket agent tries to give me over missing my booking last night. I don’t mind waiting on standby for most of the day for an available seat. Even sitting next to an obese Terran with garlic seeping from every pore of his sweaty body can’t ruin my mood.
It isn’t until my arrival back at Armstrong that I realize I haven’t eaten in several hours. Famished, I locate a food court and devour a kabob of some unidentifiable meat that vaguely tastes like rat. That I am familiar with such culinary delights is another reminder of my sad upbringing. That, and the barely palatable coffee I down with it, is enough to break Tessa’s spell and bring my feet back to the ground.
Checking my chronometer, I note I’ve been absent for almost two days. Slightly embarrassed, I depart for the docks to check on Chloe and see whether Tessa’s package has been delivered.
If I have any lingering warm fuzzies from my visit with her, they evaporate when I arrive at Requiem’s docking bay.
An ambulance hover car with the Canto Corporate logo splashed on the side is parked next to the ship. One of the paramedics is bandaging Schmaltz’s head. Dropping my bag, I run up to check on him.
“Schmaltzy, are you all right? What the hell happened?”
“Mel! Thank goodness you’re okay.”
“What? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“They were looking for you.”
“Who? The guys that did this to you?”
He nods, wincing in pain with the effort.
The paramedic speaks to me. “Are you in charge, ma’am?”
“What?” I am confused by the question. “No, I’m the ship’s physician. Where’s Chambers—the captain?”
“He took a bad blow to the back of the head, Mel,” said Schmaltz. “They took him to Canto’s medical clinic about half an hour ago. He wasn’t conscious.”
I turn to the paramedic. He shakes his head. “I don’t know about his condition. The first responding team transported him before we arrived.” He indicates his companion, who tends to the arm of our navigator, Cervantes.
“Who else is injured?”
“Just the three of us; Mikey and Shin weren’t here.”
“Where’s Chloe?”
“I dunno, I think they took her.”
Fear grips me. “Who took her?”
He shakes his head. “Five or six guys, armed and wearing masks, broke in and started to trash the place. Chambers tried to stop them, but they smacked him down and beat on him. I tried to help but got this for a reward.” He points to his bandaged head. “The last thing I remember before I blacked out was the leader telling them to find Chloe.”
“We’ve put in a call to corporate security,” says the medic. “They’ve dispatched a team that should arrive in about ten minutes. We need to take Mister Schmaltz in for examination, ma’am.”
Did I really look like a ma’am?
I squat down to make a cursory evaluation of him then agree he should go to the hospital where they can do more for him than I can in my med bay.
“What about Cervantes?” I ask.
“He just has a deep cut that needs tending, but nothing serious. We can take him in too, if you’d like.” I look over to Cervantes, who returns my gaze and shakes his head.
“I can check him out on the ship,” I say.
The paramedic nods and waves to his companion. They assist Schmaltz into the ambulance and are gone a few moments later.
Cervantes approaches. “I didn’t see much. I was in my quarters when I heard a ruckus. I poked my head out and nearly got it taken off by some galoot wearing a mask. I grabbed him for a tussle, but he knifed me. I got away and locked myself in my cabin to call for help.” He lowers his gaze. “I’m ashamed I didn’t do more, but I’m
not paid to fight, and he wasn’t messing around.”
“You did the smart thing. Let’s get you inside so I can look at that wound.”
Chapter Nineteen
Corporate security arrives shortly after I’ve stitched up Cervantes’ arm and sent him to bed with some painkillers. The chief investigator seems more concerned about damage to the ship than what happened to her crew. He and his team do a quick once-over of the place and interview Cervantes.
As they leave, I ask, “What are you going to do about Chloe?”
“She isn’t an employee of the corporation and not our responsibility,” says the investigator. “You can always file a complaint with the local police detachment.”
“What good will that do? They’re more useless than you.”
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m limited in what I can do. I’ll forward a copy of our report to your captain.”
I bite my tongue and refrain from asking him what good that will do if his injury makes him a brain-damaged vegetable. Instead, I simply let him leave without voicing further opinions of him and his security team.
Following their departure, I make a tour of the ship. Evidence of the intrusion is everywhere, the worst mess being in Chloe’s quarters, where she obviously put up a fight. The med bay fared slightly better than other places, but every cabinet is open and the contents spilled out on the floor. Nothing seems to be missing, except for Chloe’s blue pills.
I lean against the edge of the examining table as the weight of what’s happened settles on me. For the first time in ages, I am at a loss for how to proceed.
My cynical self tries to salvage something out of the situation. With Chloe taken, she is no longer my problem. In many respects, the rest of our lives just got simpler and safer. It is evident that somebody connected to Cabot determined her location and sent a team to recover her and spirit her home.
Great. Job done. Her father has more than enough resources to purge the nasties from her system...if he wants to, that is. According to Chloe, that is unlikely.
