Zero

by J. S. Collyer

Webb barked a laugh and turned back to the panel, much to Hugo's relief. “Not a fan of the moon, huh?” The ship shuddered and lurched but Webb's hands danced on the controls and it smoothed out. A flyer passed dangerously close to the viewscreen but neither of the pilots flinched. “Relax, Captain. Could be worse. Could be Haven.”

  With a clang the ship settled into its berth. Webb stretched and More set about running shut down checks. Hugo unbuckled his harness and went for a better look out the viewscreen. Despite himself, he was impressed. The Northside Harbour was a clamorous and jumbled affair and the berth they'd been given was only just big enough. There was a hulking freighter on one side of them and a barque on the other that wasn't big, but was badly berthed. Webb and More had brought them right down in between with room to spare.

  He glanced at Webb and saw he was grinning.

  “Right. Shall we get this over with?”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Webb said a little too cheerfully. Hugo noticed he had changed into a scruffier t-shirt and that there was knife in a sheath strapped to his forearm. He'd also put on a battered baseball cap, pulled it down low on his face, his long black tail of hair pulled through at the back. He gave Hugo a glance up and down as he pulled his jacket on. “Urm, sir... you're really coming with us?”

  “Yes.”

  Webb sighed, glanced at More for support, but More was still purposefully running diagnostics on the control panel and not looking up. Hugo saw Webb steel himself.

  “Very well sir. But... can I just..” He reached out.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Not everyone knows you're ex-Service. Word'll get around fast, especially if Dolgorukov has anything to do with it. But until then it's probably best not to look too... regimented.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Just.. hold still.”

  Gritting his teeth Hugo begrudgingly allowed Webb to mess up his hair, turn up the collar on his jacket and untuck his shirt. The commander stood back with an appraising look.

  “That will have to do. Don't shave for a couple of days. And try not to stand so straight. You're disenfranchised, remember.”

  Hugo glared and ran his hands through his hair. “I can't believe this. Come on then. Let's go.”

  “Sir,” Webb nodded and gestured towards the door.

  Rami and Bolt were waiting in the hold with the loaded four-by-four. Webb climbed into the driver's seat and Hugo climbed up next to him. Rami and Bolt clambered into the back, sitting either side of a large metal cargo container on a lifter. There was a rush of cold air as the hold hatch opened and the ramp lowered, bringing with it a tangy and metallic smell of oil and mass-produced air. A wall of noise rushed in, the clanking of motors and the whining of flyers, the hum of electricity and the clatter of a million people and machines.

  “Here we go, Captain. Still sure you wanna come and play?”

  “Just drive.”

  Webb sniggered and the started the engine. The Jeep rumbled down the hold ramp and hit the tarmac of the harbour. Hugo felt a little light headed and took a few deep breaths to try and adjust to the air. They wove between other ships' landing gear and made it out onto the exitway.

  “Let me know if you're gonna hurl, Captain,” Webb said. “I can pull over.”

  “Just keep going,” he snapped again, breathing deeply until the dizziness passed.

  Ships of all shapes and sizes were crammed into the berths on either side of them and people were moving everywhere, zooming around on mopeds or shouting orders, clanking tools and wrestling with cargo. Their Jeep joined the queue of other vehicles on the exitway waiting to leave the harbour and Hugo craned his neck for a better look ahead. There were distinctly few hovercraft. He'd never seen a place with so many wheeled vehicles that wasn't Earth.

  “Here's the manifest, Zeek,” Rami said, handing a panel through to Webb as they waited in the queue. Hugo took it before Webb could and glanced at it, but it looked exactly the same as the copy he'd seen in his cabin.

  “See, Captain,” Webb smiled, taking the panel off him. “We're legitimate businessmen here.”

  “Do you even know what it is your selling?”

  “We're not selling him anything,” Webb replied, easing the four-by-four forward as the queue moved. “We're giving it to him.”

  “You're giving...what, no credit?”

  Webb shook his head. “We owe Dolgorukov. This'll keep him sweet until we need the next favour.”

  “So we're giving him Service-level machine parts...in case we ever need a favour?”

  “It pays to stay in Anton's good graces,” Webb said. “You wouldn't believe what he can get his hands on.”

  “Captain...?” Hugo twisted in his seat to face Rami. She glanced at Webb and then back. “In all seriousness, sir. Dolgorukov's not dangerous. As far as points go he's got to be one of the lowest risk. But, even so...”

  “Yes, Lieutenant?”

  She swallowed. “No disrespect, sir. I just think its important you realise that we've spent a long time building up our relationship with him -”

  “Rami,” Webb warned.

  “I just think the captain shouldn't -”

  “Rami,” he said again. “It's fine. Like the Captain said, learn by doing.”

  Rami nodded. Hugo didn't say anything, just turned in his seat to look back out the windscreen, trying the ignore the prickle that crept up his spine. They were nearing the exit terminal. The flyer in front moved forward and the gates of the terminal creaked shut behind it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Webb pull his cap down lower on his face and slouch further in his seat, fingers drumming on the wheel. A glance in the rear view showed Rami and Bolt with backs straight and arms folded. No one seemed nervous exactly, but there was tension strung between them like wire and it seemed they were all purposely not looking at him. He shifted in his seat and glared ahead.

  The exit terminal gates heaved open. Webb moved the Jeep into the bay and they clanged shut behind them. A bored looking customs agent took a swipe of all their ID cards and glanced at the manifest on Webb's panel. They were then waved back out the other side. Hugo let out a gust of breath when the gates of the harbour closed behind them.

  “Piece of cake, eh Captain?” Webb said.

  They went down the ramp onto a very busy groundway. Webb steered them amongst the mass of traffic easily enough but it was still an odd sensation to be in amongst so many ground vehicles. Hugo leaned forward to see the towering spacescrapers blink up into the darkness above. The lights from the skyways snaked between the towering buildings and made him feel very low down.

  The rest of the journey went by in silence. Hugo watched the thronging streets of Northside Tranquillity pass by. The neon was not helping his headache, but he didn't close his eyes. He kept sneaking glances at Webb and at Rami and Bolt in the back. Rami tapped away on the computer panel, the light washing her skin sickly white. Bolt sat straight and stared out the window. Then he had to look back out the front again because the unfamiliar motion of the wheeled vehicle was making him nauseous. He blinked as the Jeep climbed to the apex of a ramp and emerged onto a better-lit level of the city. The traffic was thinner and they picked up speed.

  Finally they turned another corner onto a virtually empty side street and pulled up beside some unmarked gates. There was no sign of any control panel or comm unit. They just sat there for a moment before Webb leaned out the driver window, grinned and waved up at one of the cameras mounted on the wall.

  “Hey, Anton,” he yelled. Hugo cringed. “Long time no see.” Nothing happened. “Come on, Anton. We've got presents.” Still nothing. Webb slumped back into his seat with a frown.

  “You don't suppose he's still mad at us do you?” Rami asked.

  Hugo glared at Webb. “Mad?”

  “Nah,” Webb said, waving his hand. “He couldn't still be mad...”

  “Want me to try and get him on his personal comm?” Rami said.

  Webb opened his mouth to rep
ly just as there was a clunk and a hiss and the gates started to open. Webb cast Hugo a glance but the smile on his face was a little too relieved. “See?”

  “I suppose there's no chance there's an ambush waiting?” Hugo said.

  “Not Anton's style,” Webb said and drove the car through the gates and into the cluttered yard beyond. Twisted metal and broken machinery were piled high against the walls. There were a couple of gutted flyers and more sheet metal than Hugo could quite believe was all legitimate scrap. There were a couple of people in overalls in amongst the piles of junk but they had stopped work to watch them as they parked up.

  “Ezekiel Webb, you goddamned asshole,” bellowed a voice from across the yard. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “We'd've been here sooner, Anton, if you'd opened the gates,” Webb said as he climbed out. Hugo got out too and stood close to the Jeep, getting a good look at the point as he came over the oil-stained yard towards them. He certainly didn't look threatening, even storming towards them brandishing a computer panel. He was short and round, hair thinning on the top and his skin had the pale, doughy look of someone who had spent their entire life under artificial light.

  “Baszódj meg. You're a cheeky sonabitch, Webb,” Dolgorukov drew level and folded his arms over his ample paunch. “You're lucky I don't...who's this?” His sharp eyes looked Hugo up and down.

  “New captain,” Webb said.

  “Another one?”

  Webb shrugged. “We're demanding.”

  “Demanding. Yeah. That's the word,” the man said, still glaring.

  “We come bearing gifts, Anton,” Webb said with another disarming smile just as Rami and Bolt came round from the back of the Jeep, pushing the crate on it's lifter. Dolgorukov narrowed his eyes at Webb then pushed past the taller man to open it.

  “Here, Anton,” Rami said, handing over her panel which once again displayed the cargo manifest.

  “Thank you, Anita,” the short man said, taking it from her and glancing down it. “Still hanging out with these reprobates? You disappoint me, child.”

  “They're my reprobates, Anton,” Rami replied with a small smile.

  Dolgorukov chuckled. “Yes, I suppose they are. And good thing too. If it weren't for you and More the whole crew would have drifted themselves years ago.” Bolt grunted and folded his arms, glaring. Dolgorukov looked up from the panel to the big man and his face suddenly cracked into a wide smile and he slapped Bolt on the shoulder, not something Hugo would have been prepared to do, even for a handsome amount of credit. “You know I'm only kidding, big guy. Webb, this load is almost enough to make me like you again.”

  “What did I tell you, Hugo?” Webb smiled “No one stays mad at us for long.”

  “Hugo?” Dolgorukov looked up, realisation slackening his face. “Kaleb Hugo?”

  Hugo froze. He glanced around his crew but they were looking at him, faces suddenly still. “Yes,” he said carefully.

  Dolgorukov ran a hand over his balding pate and took a breath. “I... I thought I recognised you.”

  “Anton” Webb started, voice low.

  “No,” Dolgorukov said, holding up a hand. “No, it's fine. You want to hire ex-Service that's your choice. I'm not one for poking my nose where it don't belong.” Webb snorted. “Not when it's not in my interest anyway. It's just...” He looked at Hugo again. If anything his skin was even paler. Hugo felt panic fluttering in the bottom of his stomach. “I know it didn't work out too well for you but...I knew some miners on that satellite...on X4-18. Whatever else happened, you saved a lot of lives that day.”

  Hugo let out a breath and managed a nod, his throat tight. Dolgorukov ducked his head, looked from him to Webb and his smile was back.

  “And anyway,” he continued, more brightly, “you know what they say. Better the sewer than the Service. And they don't come much more sewer than this lot.” Hugo glared at Webb, expecting a sly remark but his commander wasn't looking at him. “I would stay mad at you, Zeek,” Dolgorukov continued, “but you've saved my bacon. I've been out of burn connectors for weeks and I've got a dozen folk clamouring for gravgen units.”

  “I thought Harvey brought you stacks of those from Haven?” Webb asked.

  “Haven't seen hide nor hair of that one for months,” Dolgorukov replied, thumbing through the manifest.

  “You haven't?” Webb asked, frowning.

  Dolgorukov shrugged, handing Rami's panel back to her. “Don't ask me, Webb. That girl's a law unto herself.”

  “Where do you want this?” Bolt said, patting the crate.

  “Over in the store, thanks,” Dolgorukov said, pointing.

  Bolt started to steer the lifter in the direction of the large metal structure on the other side of the yard, giving Webb a pointed look as he passed.

  “Oh, Anton, alright if Bolt grabs some resistance straps? We need to replace the ones in Father and he's picky about these things.”

  “Help yourself,” Dolgorukov said, tapping more commands into his own scratched panel. “There should be a couple in the store. Webb,” he said, not looking up. “Can I have a word?”

  Hugo didn't miss the quick glance the point threw at him. Webb seemed to catch it too.

  “Yeah, sure...”

  The two men wandered off a little distance, heads bent together and started muttering to each other in Hungarian.

  “Should I be worried?” Hugo asked.

  Rami came up beside him and shook her head. “I don't think so, Captain. We'll be on our way soon.”

  Hugo nodded, glancing around the cluttered yard and forcing himself not to shift on his feet. Bolt returned, straps in hand. Hugo saw Dolgorukov nod and pat Webb's shoulder.

  “Now clear off,” the point said in a louder voice, turning to pace away. “I need to get working on these gravgens.”

  “No rest for the wicked, Anton,” Webb called after him. Hugo watched Webb as he watched the short man disappear into the store. Then he looked back. “Let's split.”

  They clambered back into the Jeep and Webb started the engine.

  “What did he want to talk to you about, Commander?” Hugo said as they pulled back out onto the busy groundway.

  Webb glanced up into the rear-view but whether it was to catch Rami's eye or to check the traffic Hugo couldn't tell. “He wanted to ask me whether having you as the captain was likely to screw up the deals we have with the Service reps that get us engine parts.”

  Hugo pondered for a moment. “Will it? For all they know I was dishonourably discharged.”

  Webb looked at him. “I'm willing to bet that most folk, Service or not, feel the same way that Anton does. They'd've done the same thing in your place. If they had the balls, that is.”

  Hugo grunted.

  “It's those Analysts Hugo. They'll get you every time. You should never piss off the Analysts.”

  “Well I know that now,” Hugo muttered.

  Webb snorted. “Well done, Hugo. That was almost a joke.”

  “Captain,” Hugo corrected.

  Webb ducked his head. “Sorry. Captain.”

  “Zeek,” Rami said.

  Webb blinked. “Yeah, yeah. Hang on, I'll pull in.”

  “What's happening?”

  “I'm just checking in on the moonframe, Captain. I need a grounded workstation for that.”

  “Rami likes to keep tabs on the set up of all local systems,” Webb said as the Jeep pulled up onto a walkway. “It's a rather tedious hobby of hers.”

  “Commander,” she said coolly. “If you want me to be able to get into and around every system I need to know if they upgrade. I'll see you back at the Zero.”

  “Bolt,” Webb said over his shoulder. “You go with her.”

  “I don't need a bodyguard, Webb,” Rami muttered.

  “I know that better than most, Anita. But still. You're more likely to get a seat on the shuttle if Bolt is there, right?”

  Rami sighed. “Very well. Try not to lose the new captain. Captain.”
>
  “Lieutenant. Crewman.”

  “Cap'n,” Bolt mumbled and they climbed out the back of the Jeep and onto the brightly lit walkway before disappearing into the crowd.

  “You hungry?”

  Hugo blinked at his commander. He hadn't thought about it before, but suddenly his stomach clenched uncomfortably. All he had had that day was that cup of engine-oil coffee at the spaceport that morning, that morning that already seemed a million years ago. “Yes.”

  “Great. I know just the place.”

  Webb pulled them back into the traffic and lapsed into silence as he steered through the tangled groundways. Hugo had been trying his best to keep his bearings but now he just gave up. The hive of lights and metal that arched above them in a never-ending stream of neon and orange went on and on.

  “Is this a first for you then, Captain?”

  Hugo kept staring out the windsceen. “I've been to Tranquillity before. For conferences.”

  “Uh-huh,” Webb said with understanding. “I'm guessing that was Southside?”

  “Yes.”

  “Enclosed walkways? Air-conditioning?”

  Hugo ignored him and clutched at the seat as the Jeep lurched under him and made its way up a ramp and through an entrance in the side of one of the megablocks. The sign over the entrance declared it to be Imbrium Block. Three of the letters were blacked out and the gate had been wedged open with an empty crate.

  “Where are we going, Commander?”

  “For lunch,” Webb replied, pulling over into a parking bay. “Best goulash in town, trust me.” Hugo mumbled under his breath as he climbed out of the Jeep and followed Webb across the parking pool to the wall of express lifts. “Level 102,” Webb said when the lift doors closed behind them. There was a judder and a hiss and then they were zooming upwards. “Captain?” Webb said in a low voice, casting him a sideways glance from under the peak of his baseball cap.

  “What?”

  “Do you trust me yet?”

  Hugo narrowed his eyes. “No.”

  Webb paused, then shrugged. “Too bad. Just take it on faith then that you want me to do the talking here.”

  The lift juddered to a halt and the doors hissed open. Hugo followed Webb as he strode out onto the broad walkway. “I thought you said we were going for lunch?”