“Alana—”
“See you next month.”
I cut off the transmission.
I couldn’t think about it anymore. I shoved the Panacea sample into my pocket where it snuggled up to the familiar vial of Dexitek that would keep me going until I could afford something else, whatever that ended up being.
Exhaustion chewed at my muscles, so I grabbed a plumberry from the kitchen, cut it up, climbed up to the roof, and lay down on my sweat-soaked back. Spasms twitched across my neck to my arm, nerves firing with referred pain. The inevitable consequence of physical labor when you lived in a body like mine.
Every part of me that wasn’t hurting melted into the albacite tile Nova had installed when she bought the place. An unfortunate reminder that she’d gentrify the whole fringe if she could, but I still loved it up there. It was the closest I could come to the Big Quiet. On the roof, I could set aside all the financial woes and the nerve pain and just let myself be for a while.
I held a slice of the fruit up to the full moon, pale light shining through it, turning it into a jewel. Juice dripped down my fingers and mingled with the dirt beneath my nails, trailing in syrupy rivulets down my arm.
A gift from my sister. Every time she finished leading a new client into a deluded, mindless stupor—what she called “raising their vibrations”—my sister sent me something from the planet’s biocatalog to celebrate completing another guide contract, another notch on her belt. Sometimes it was something nasty, like the wrong end of a sea creature masquerading as a local delicacy, but this? Heaven. It’s like my whole childhood burst on my tongue, all the sweet and sour of it, the sunbaked possibility I’d lost somewhere on the way to adulthood.
I licked the juice from my arm, relishing in the sugar mixed with a metal tang that was practically seared into my skin from a lifetime of making love to machines. A thrill shivered up from the soles of my feet to my legs, my hips, my chest. Fringe folk learned how to take pleasure in small things.
In that moment, I could forget about Dr. Shrike and my disease, forget about making decisions about treatments. I could forget that Lai was being scrutinized by Transliminal Solutions while cold-calling failing businesses to solicit tech upgrades. I could forget about the money we owed the hospital, or about the power my sister had over our shop. I could even still the ache in my chest where my parents lived—parents I hadn’t seen in over three years because none of us could afford interplanetary travel anymore. And they didn’t want Nova’s charity any more than I did. Not when it came packaged with lectures about the pointlessness of scientific research in a universe where “real magic could be found within.” Or something like that.
Now, between the fruit and the moon, there was only me. I relaxed my sore body, weary from work and illness. The stabbing along my right arm was almost welcome, a reminder that I was alive despite it all, and that I was working as hard as I had to if I wanted to get out of this pretentious hole of a city, disease or no.
I looked up at the gradient of atmosphere and space, with me at one end and everything at the other. Maybe gravity is more will than physics, and all it takes is a lapse of faith to float away. Lying there, juice-soaked and tired, I could believe it. The roof seemed to lift away from the building in a swell of vertigo, my brain convincing my body it was actually floating into the black by sheer force of desire. I opened my arms to the Big Quiet beyond and imagined I was falling up into the oil-dark blood of the universe.
Lost in the magnetic upward pull, I started fantasizing a ship descending toward me, belly open as if it would swallow me right there on the roof and carry me into the silence. She’d come a long way, I imagined, for the chance to be heard by someone who knew how to listen to her song. For someone to heal her—a sky surgeon. Me.
Don’t you worry, sweet thing, I thought to the ship. I hear you. I’ll hear you even when I’ve gone deaf with age. I’ll hear you through my skin if I have to, and I’ll help you live forever.
Yeah, I know. I talked to ships the way other folks might talk to a lover who haunted their dreams. But me, I wasn’t waiting for someone to rescue me. I waited for vessels I could rescue from death by chop shop. Beauty didn’t deserve to go out like that. All that metal wrapped around a beating plasma heart, an engine full of fire. No human could compare; people fell dim in the shadows of the ships I touched.
When my imaginary ship kept descending toward the repair lot, stirring the Orpim dirt into a frenzy, I sat up. The air around me bent and rippled with heat from the ship’s secondary thrusters as they blasted the land. Bands of plasma illuminated the yard, zapping the rods we’d set up around the landing area. Dust whipped around the vessel, grit stinging my eyes despite my high vantage point.
This was no fantasy. It was a job.
The transport ship seemed to stare at me with its bridge windows like two unblinking eyes, challenging me to diagnose it, heal it, send it back into the Big Quiet. And in return, I’d be a small percentage closer to the treatment.
“You got it, gorgeous,” I mumbled with a grin. I didn’t care how tired I was or how nauseated the Dexitek left me. My hands itched at the sight of her. I scrambled to my feet and almost slipped off the slick white tile.
A small figure disembarked from the vessel’s cargo bay and headed for the shop below, but I couldn’t make out their features in the dark. I tried shouting at them, telling them I’d be there in a minute, but the engine noise drowned out my words. I braced myself on my way back to the ladder, careful not to slip again.
Moments later, an urgent voice came via neural interface.
“Hello? We’re looking for Ms. Quick.”
I flipped the tiny transmit switch behind my ear with the tip of my nail, connecting my voice to the intercom in the shop. “I’m coming! Hang on a second.”
“It’s important,” the voice barked.
“I hear you, I’ll be right there. I’m coming down.”
At first I took the ladder to the stairwell one rung at a time, but I couldn’t get down there fast enough—I bypassed the last dozen rungs by sliding down while lightly gripping the banisters. Taking two steps at a time, I banged my way down the metal stairwell to the office, wiping my hands on my pants to rid them of juice and grease.
A voluptuous woman stood in the doorway of the shop, her dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail, toes of her shoes barely crossing the threshold. She bounced in place, eyes darting around the lobby as if she were looking for something specific.
“What can I do for you?” I said, nodding my chin at her. “How’s your drive—”
She strode forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. Her nails were short like mine, but not anywhere near as dirty. Between her joyless face and the tension in her hand, I figured there must be something seriously wrong with her vessel. Bad for them, good for me.
I peeked around her to determine whether I could diagnose the ship at a distance, but everything I could see from that angle looked fine. I’d need to examine her hands-on, and believe me, I wasn’t complaining. My blood raced just thinking about working on an old Gartik transport. They didn’t make those anymore, not since Central bought up the Gartik Shipyard fifty years ago and turned it into a pharmaceutical distribution warehouse. So where’d this one come from? Someone had done some serious mod work on her, from the look of it. An extra structure bubbled up out of the starboard side, shimmering each time a tendril of plasma discharged from the electric rings around her engine. Just gorgeous. Whoever owned her clearly loved her hard enough to treat her like a lady even in this crap economy.
“You’re Ms. Quick, right?” the woman said, jerking my attention back to her. “Marshall and Thia’s daughter?”
She still gripped my shoulder, but I held out a hand in the hope that a little courtesy could calm her split nerves. “I sure am, where did you hear about us?”
Ignoring my hand, she pulled me out the door by the shoulder. “We’re going for a ride.”
I stumbled along with her.
“Who are you?”
“We’re contracting you for a month or so,” the woman said, hurrying me toward the ship. “Already put the request through your agent. Straightforward guide work.”
“Whoa.” I twisted away from her and held my hands up in front of me. “Guide work? I’m an engineer, not a spirit guide. Where’d you get that idea?”
She sighed. “Nova Quick?”
“Alana. Nova’s my sister.”
She paused, eyes flicking to the side while obviously listening to someone over comm. Her movements were harried but professional. I tried not to betray my eagerness while I waited.
“She’s gone,” I said at length. “Nova hasn’t been back here for about six months now. But where are you headed to? If you need some work done—”
The corner of her mouth twitched downward and she looked at me again. “We didn’t know about you. Where is she? Your sister.”
“I don’t know,” I lied. Nova would kill me if I told anyone how to contact her while she was on vacation. I wasn’t about to bite the hand that feeds.
“Seriously?” She raised her eyebrows as if I were just being difficult.
A passing Transliminal transport’s light illuminated us from above, the overwhelming whir from its engine joining the Gartik’s song in a cacophony of sound, prolonging the silence between us. Our eyes remained locked, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that would placate her. How could I work this to my advantage? There was an opportunity here; I could feel it.
“You have no idea where she is?” she said, wrestling with her obvious impatience.
I shrugged and put on my best nonchalant expression. “There are a few possibilities, but I’m her sister, not her assistant.”
“She owns this place, doesn’t she?”
I straightened my back. “The building. Not the business.”
Again her eyes flicked to the side as someone stole her attention over comm, while I was equally distracted by the metal lady behind her. The slick curves of the vessel glinted under the moon and yard lights, even while covered in the wounds of a long life. There was grace left in her yet. They’d kept the drive on a low cycle; I swore I could hear music in the plasma arcs dancing around her thrusters. My heart cracked open and peeled apart, desperate for a chance to let her in, to learn the rhythm of her.
Nothing was ever enough. I always craved one more ship, one more surgery. Kugler didn’t leave me because I didn’t want to be tied down. That was just easier to digest than the truth. Every woman I’d ever been with had left me for the same reason, just variations on a theme: I’d never put them before my work.
Could you blame me? Look at the old girl, all power and freedom dressed in light. I could never give up the dream of wiping the dirt off my heels and living in the black.
Now I wondered why I had to open my fool mouth about Nova. I could have pretended to be her long enough to get on the ship. Not that I looked anything like a spirit guide—my surgeon locs alone should have given that away—but it would have been worth a shot.
“Hey,” I said, but the woman held up her hand to tell me to be quiet while she listened to whoever was on the other end of her comm connection. Her captain? What kind of captain buys and mods an old Gartik like that? I felt like a little kid waiting for the right time to interrupt her parents to ask for a new toy. My hands shook, I was so anxious for the chance to change my life. Or maybe it was the medication. Never could tell.
I readied myself, preparing a speech. Lai told me sometimes you have to be rude to effect change since the people with power have no reason to listen.
“I hate to interrupt your call, but I can tell you’re in need of a new engineer. Fresh eyes, fresh hands. And mine know what they’re doing. I’ve been working with ships since my fingers were too small to fit around—”
“Never mind,” the woman said to me, cutting off her comm connection. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
She was already heading back to the ship before I could gather my wits. I jogged to catch up and hurried along next to her, locs bouncing down my back. “Wait! Please. If you bring me with you, you won’t ever worry about drifting in the silence without a working engine. I guarantee it.”
“We have an engineer and two shuttles for emergencies,” she said, still walking.
“Okay. But what if something happens to your chief engineer? Couldn’t you use a second?”
The electricity grew louder and more dangerous the closer we got to the ship, but I wasn’t afraid. No one who belonged in the black feared the ships that delivered us there. If anything, the power of it thrilled me.
“You need me,” I shouted over the noise as she hurried and I scrambled to keep up. “You need a second—”
“What we need is your sister.”
Story of my damn life.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why don’t you just ask her agent where she is if you want her so badly?”
She didn’t answer, but came to a halt and looked straight at me. There was a flicker of tension across her face.
“Please, just let me talk to the cap—”
She cut me off. “Sweetheart, we hear the same thing in every city. Everyone’s looking for a job. Everyone’s a damned expert who can change your life. What makes you so special?”
“I’ve been doing surgery since I was old enough to—”
“Save it; that’s an old story. It’s not up to me. Sorry.” She started back to the ship.
I kept following her, so she paused again, and put a hand on my chest. Beautiful though she was, she was also a formidable human barrier between me and the craft, all black hair and fierce eyes. “If you’re such a great sky surgeon, you’ll know to stand back.”
“And if you need my sister so badly, you’d recognize I’m the only one who can help you.”
She stepped closer to me and jabbed me in the chest with her finger. “You do know where she is, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
I shrugged one shoulder, then slowly pushed her hand away from me. “Mind not touching? As for my sister, that depends.”
She clicked off her comm link, scrutinizing me. “How much do you want?”
“A job.”
“Look, you’re deluding yourself if you think you can just bargain your way onto a ship’s crew, especially this one. Anyway, the captain heard our conversation and I told you, she said no.” She leaned in, voice barely wavering. “Please. We really need your sister.”
I picked at my fingernails and shrugged again. Desperate or not, I wasn’t about to hand over my leverage. When I looked up, I stood alone. I just watched as the woman walked swiftly toward the ship and disappeared into it without wasting a single glance back.
I sat on an old crate and stared at the cargo hold, watching crew members move in and out of the ship. A large man examined the thrusters on both the port and starboard sides of the vessel for their pre-takeoff checks, while the woman I’d met dropped off a few crates in our yard. Sweat darkened her shirt beneath the arms and along her back.
Eventually, she glanced at me, making eye contact. She looked angry when she saw me see her.
Let her see you. Let her be reminded of what you can offer. Be patient.
If they wanted my sister badly enough, I’d let them come to me. I had something they wanted, and more importantly, they had something I needed. Money. Opportunity. I could make at least five times as much on a crew than I did on-planet. Sure, the income wasn’t reliable, but neither was the work down here. Better to try something new than keep bashing your head against the same wall.
At least out there, I’d be worth something. Engineers were insurance against a dead vessel. I could do a lot more for me and Lai if I could land a position on a crew. Send money back to her. Get us out of debt, get her up there with me. Get our treatments from Transliminal.
See my parents again.
I’d been trying for years. Asking around. Seeing if any crews were looking for a surgeon, but they never were.
Either they already had one or they were saving to upgrade to a ship that ran on Transliminal’s “dark energy.” Whatever that was. Crews came to us for minor repairs to major damage until they could shed an old skin for a new one. Perfectly good old skin that just needed a little help to stay healthy.
Even in the dark, Heliodor wrapped its heavy, hot arms around me and squeezed the water from my pores. I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead, smearing sweat and desert dirt across my skin. I was used to it, but I could tell the crew wasn’t. The engineer wiped his broad face with his shirt while he worked, and the woman looked more agitated with every passing minute.
Finally, she approached me again, makeup now smeared around her eyes from the heat, black strands of hair plastered against the side of her face.
“Sorry,” I said, grinning. “Bathrooms are for paying customers only.”
“Look.” She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip and looked as if she wanted to punch me. Instead, she patted the air and looked away for a moment, as if calming herself down. “This is ridiculous. You can’t expect—”
“I don’t expect anything. You have needs, and so do I. Didn’t your mother ever tell you no one gives you anything for free?”
“Will you just listen for a second?” She glanced at the ship, looking nervous. “You can’t expect me to reverse the captain’s decision. She has good reason to be paranoid about extra folks milling around our ship, no matter who they happen to be related to. But it seems to me if a ship has its external comm systems offline, then its sensors are offline too. Seems pretty easy for cargo to make it on board without anyone noticing.”
“I don’t need to transport cargo. I need—”
“Seems to me,” she said, stepping closer, “that if the cargo were discovered once said ship were well out of orbit, there’d be no sense in wasting fuel just to turn around and drop the cargo back off. Especially when the cargo turns out to be useful.”
She raised her eyebrows at me, then took a few steps back, shrugging. “Not that a medical officer would be able to do anything to help the cargo once it’s discovered, because what does a medical officer know about cargo, anyway? We take off in five minutes.” She gave me a pointed look, then turned around, and headed back to the ship.
Ascension: A Tangled Axon Novel Page 2
