Planet Broker

by Eric Vall

And because I knew these men, and could read them, I could beat them. And I did. Again and again and again, until I had acquired a large sum of credits, enough that I knew I couldn’t cash them out. That was just asking to be jumped and robbed and left to bleed out in an alleyway. I had considered transferring the money to my newly set up corporate account, Terra-Nebula employees had the option of direct deposit at all T.N. run casinos.

  But something had stayed me, even then. Perhaps it was the phantom of hunger still hiding beneath my ribs. Perhaps it was the memory of my father’s back as he left for sixteen hour shifts, and the nights the two of us still went to bed without dinner. Perhaps it was base instinct, a leftover remnant of our animal ancestors who knew that winter would always return, and that it was best to be prepared.

  Whatever the reason, I had taken my winnings and stored them in a shell account under a different name. Corporate bigwigs did it all the time, and places like Theron were veritable vaults of stolen or hidden funds. We had left not long after, my mentor much lighter in the pockets, and I had completely forgotten about my little nest egg.

  Until now.

  “I’m pretty sure I have a few thousand credits,” I mused. I dragged my hand across my jaw contemplatively and scratched at the stubble there. “More than fifty but less than a hundred.”

  Neka’s eyes bulged, and her ears and tail stood at attention. “We’re rich!” she gasped and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. Despite the shitty situation, I felt endeared by my assistant’s innocent nature. I hoped the cat-girl would never change.

  I smirked as I turned back to the pilot’s console. If we engaged the hyperdrive, and I thought we had enough fuel to do so, we could reach Theron Prime in as little as four days. “I’m not sure if illegal tax shelters compound interest, but regardless, I think we’ll have enough,” I said.

  “I am afraid to ask this, but enough for what?” Omni questioned.

  Neka turned her big, curious eyes on me as well. Her ears and tail flicked back and forth again, but this time in interest. I absentmindedly studied the flight suits she and I wore and thought to myself that new clothes not in the red and blue colors of Terra-Nebula were the first things on my shopping list.

  “CT,” the cat-girl mrowled. “What are you thinking?”

  “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.” I flashed her a roguish grin. “Omni, engage the hyperdrive. We’re going to Theron Prime. It’s payday.”

  Chapter 2

  “That’s … it?” Neka asked after we dropped out of hyperdrive four days later and got our first glimpse of our destination. She sounded notably less enthused than she had just a few minutes ago.

  “Yes, that is Theron Prime,” Omni responded, and even he sounded more judgmental than usual. “Behold its glory.”

  “Come on, at least give it a chance, guys,” I cajoled. It was a very sorry attempt, but the sight before us wasn’t giving me much to work with.

  Theron Prime wasn’t a huge station. Probably less than a million called it home. It had originally only been a mining outpost for the nearby planet Oevis, a place to refine the Odrine that was harvested there before it was packaged and shipped off to the far reaches of the galaxies.

  When the station had been built, Oevis was rich with the expensive metal ore. Dozens of ships used to transverse the distance between planet and station every day.

  Due to the anticipated high volume of traffic, the station engineers had constructed Theron Prime with numerous docking ports that stuck out from the main station. The docking ports looked like lily pads attached to the central trunk of Theron and they spun and rotated around the station to keep from ships building a queue.

  The end result looked like a haphazard string of plates that spun around the main globe-like component of the station. In its heyday, it might have been a sight to see, all those transport ships zipping to and fro.

  Unfortunately, Oevis had been mined nearly dry a century ago, and those ships were nowhere to be found. It had probably been decades since Theron had seen such heavy activity. Most of the docking ports weren’t even in use anymore, the lights gone dark, the traffic diverted to other, still functioning entrances.

  Now, Theron was mostly a way-stop on the way out of the Palioxis System. A place to restock on supplies, fuel, pleasure if you were so inclined, and most of all, money. It was a den of ill repute if I ever saw one. Suddenly, the display in front of me lit up with an incoming communication.

  “The station is attempting to hail you,” Omni informed me, and I nodded and opened the link.

  “Attention cruiser, designation Lacuna Noctis. State your order of business.” The voice was distinctly female and distinctly bored. She probably spoke to a handful of ships a day, if she was lucky, and I couldn’t imagine the conversation was very stimulating.

  “Hey there, Theron,” I drawled. The station continued to grow steadily through the viewport as we approached. “Just a simple trading vessel looking to resupply. Running a little low on fuel too, so I’d appreciate your closest available port if you please.” As if on cue, the fuel gauge began to flash an orange and then red warning light on my display. We had cut it a little close with that hyperjump.

  “Anything to declare?” the woman sighed. I imagined her reading or drinking her morning coffee while she spoke. She obviously wasn’t paying much attention.

  “Only myself and one crew member,” I muttered. I wasn’t paying much attention now either. One of the docking ports was rotating toward us and up close, the scale of them felt massive. I found myself mildly impressed even if I noticed the outside of the port was scuffed and damaged from years of wear and tear.

  “Roger that, Lacuna.” I heard the clack of her keyboard over the line. “Head to dock 21-A. I’ve sent you the bearing. Key it into your autopilot, and it will guide you straight through the door. Welcome to Theron Prime and enjoy your stay,” she replied. Before I could even say thanks, she had cut the transmission.

  “Well, that was easy!” Neka exclaimed as she bounded over from the copilot’s seat and perched herself on the armrest of mine. Her tail danced around happily, unable to stay still. First, it curled around my arm, then it lashed upwards and tickled at my ear before it skittered away again.

  “Of course it was,” I chuckled. I batted at her tail as the silken strands of her fur slid against my fingers. “We’re just unemployed, not fugitive criminals.”

  “I don’t believe they run much of a background check either,” Omni said dryly. “If what Colby has said is correct, the station is most likely full of fugitive criminals.”

  “F-f-full of them?” she stuttered. Neka’s ears twitched and flattened as she glanced out the viewport at the opening bay doors of dock 21-A. They looked like the maw of a great beast getting ready to swallow us whole.

  I reached up and ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” I told her sincerely. The cat-girl purred and nuzzled the top of her head into my hand.

  A small, mechanical arm abruptly descended out of nowhere and lightly stroked one of Neka’s ears in a very human-like gesture. “We will protect you,” Omni corrected as he continued to pet Neka’s head. The cat-girl was happy for the extra attention, and I couldn’t help but smile at the odd pair.

  The A.I. was strangely fond of my assistant. In fact, he doted on her usually, always quick to bring her things, to make her laugh. One could argue that computers didn’t feel emotions, could only simulate them, and poorly at that. Omni was different though. I wish I could take complete credit for it but, honestly, I’m not sure what I did. I’ve tried to reread parts of his code to see where the numbers ended and his personality began, but I haven’t had any success. The A.I. continued to be an enigma, my own cybertronic Frankenstein.

  I was pulled from my musings when the ship rumbled and shook as it docked. A message popped up on my display to ask if I wanted to opt for automatic refueling. If I was still employed by Terra-Nebula, I would have clicked yes without a second glance, the
automatic deduction from my account not even an afterthought. Not this time though. I had to work for it first.

  I dismissed the message and stood up swiftly from my pilot’s chair. The movement dislodged Neka, who yowled lightly in protest, from my armrest, but Omni gave her one final scratch and she settled.

  “Alright, team,” I crowed and clapped my hands together. “Who wants to go shopping?”

  Three arms shot into the air, two from Neka and even Omni raised own mechanical one.

  I laughed. “Come on then,” I said, sweeping my arms out toward the now open bridge doors. “Theron awaits us.”

  Surprisingly enough, Theron was virtually the same as it had been ten years ago.

  Once we exited the Lacuna Noctis, we made our way across the hanger bay, through a series of hallways, and to a shuttle car that zipped us down the huge arm that attached the docking port to the main body of Theron. It looked kind of like those old Earth transport systems called ‘subways.’ The ride was pretty short, and when we came out the other side, the station wall opened up to us, and we were in.

  The central hub of Theron looked like a giant anthill. Suspended walkways crisscrossed the dome, levels upon levels of them. The dome itself was broken into levels too, like a layered cake. This was just the bottom level, the marketplace, and everywhere you looked there were people, and not only humans.

  Species from all galaxies, systems, and asteroid belts moved across the station floor. Clumps of them, practically herds of different species, they darted this way and that, so quick I could barely keep track. Some carried goods with them, in their arms, upon their backs, even in hover-grav wheelbarrows that hummed as they floated past. Others tried to purchase those goods, and they shouted out offers and counteroffers in a hundred different languages that wafted into the air with the thousands of other exclamations to form one, loud, continuous din.

  “CT, you sure we’re safe?” Neka mewled. She clung to my arm and stuck as close as possible to me as we wound our way through the crowd towards the nearest information kiosk. Her big, yellow eyes barely blinked the whole time as she tried to take everything in. This wasn’t her first time on a space station. Hell, this wasn’t even her first time on a shitty space station. But each one was like its own planet, with its own set of customs, cultures, sights, sounds, and smells. It was pretty raucous for me. I couldn’t have even imagined what it was like for my assistant, with her cat enhanced senses.

  I patted my assistant’s hand wrapped around my arm and continued to guide us through the crowd.

  Once we made it to the kiosk, I patched Omni into the system and had him download a station map. The A.I. was tied into the electronic interface that was built into our Terra-Nebula flight suits. Sadly, once we purchased a change of clothes, we would have to find an external drive for him. He hated being left behind when we had to leave the ship. He pouted about it for days.

  From there, Omni led us quickly and efficiently to the bank I had previously deposited my funds into. It was located a few levels above the marketplace, closer to the casinos at the apex of the dome, so we took the express elevator up instead of winding our way through the maze of interconnected walkways.

  Even after all this time, it was still there. It didn’t even look any different. The “lobby” still smelled of fuel and stale coffee. The floor was still scuffed and pocked with dents as if someone had taken a hammer to it.

  I swear even the teller was the same, a woman with graying blonde hair tied back in a braid that dangled over her left shoulder. My palms were slightly damp as I approached her window.

  “Hello,” I said with my best and most charming smile. “I’d like to make a withdrawal. The name is Ryker Danom.”

  I nervously took in the details of her face and scrutinized every last sigh and twitch that would indicate something was wrong: the account was empty, the account didn’t exist, there was no intergalactic record of an entity known as Ryker Danom.

  But she barely spared me a glance.

  “How much?” she asked as she typed the name into the display in front of her.

  “All of it,” I said with a little more confidence. She obviously wasn’t looking to bust anyone today. “Don’t know when we’ll be back in these parts, you know?”

  I don’t know exactly why I said that small kernel of truth. Maybe to balance out the web of lies I was weaving.

  All my worry was for nothing. Within minutes, the teller cleared and closed out the account and handed me a plastic card with seventy-five thousand U-credits or universal credits. It had been almost one hundred thousand O-credits even, but the exchange to the universal currency was a little steep.

  Each major system had its own currency of credit, usually based around the major export of the area. This star system was based on Odrine, so O-credits, but most systems with a Corporate presence also had U-credits.

  The teller bid us a good day without even making eye contact with me, and then we were on our way again, suddenly rich once more.

  Or at least that is what Neka thought.

  “What are we going to buy first, CT?” she chirped excitedly at my side. We were currently making our way back to the express elevator so we could return to the market. The cat-girl held the gray plastic credit card between her two hands. She tilted it this way and that to watch the fluorescent lights play across its holographic surface. I had been worried about her not watching where she was headed, but then I felt the brush of her tail as she wrapped it around one of the belt loops on my crew uniform.

  “Hmm,” I hummed contemplatively. Relatively, seventy thousand U-credits wasn’t a lot. And this was all the money we had until we came to Phase Two of my plan. I had to be smart with it.

  But on the other hand …

  “Let’s get something to eat first,” I decided. My stomach suddenly rumbled its assent. It had been a few weeks now since I had anything that wasn’t a freeze-dried powder I had to add water to. My mouth salivated at the thought of a good cut of meat. It didn’t even have to be a recognizable animal. If I had learned anything from my time as a broker, it was to always try the native food, as long as Omni assured me it wasn’t toxic to the human disposition.

  Neka purred at my side, her eyes slitted with pleasure. “Mmmmm. Yes, food sounds good! I want a whole platter of fish.” Her tiny pink tongue darted out to lick her lips as she smacked them together.

  “Fish for the lady it is,” I laughed. “After we fill our bellies, I think we should look for some new clothes,” I added as I frowned down at the blue and red colors of Terra-Nebula that still adorned my chest. “And then we’ll make a list of supplies we need.”

  “Colby, could I make a suggestion?” Omni suddenly piped up in my ear. The earpieces we wore were microscopic, an accessory of the crew uniform. While the tech was top of the line and more than convenient, it also never failed to weird me out. It was like the A.I. was speaking in my head.

  We had just reached the elevator, and we waited with the growing crowd for the car to return.

  “Sure, what is it, O?”

  “While the Terra-Nebula uniforms are unflattering ...” he began.

  “Hey!” Neka pouted in response. She looked up from the credit card and glared at me as if I had said it.

  “I think he’s talking about me, Neka,” I assured the adorable cat-girl. She ‘hhmphed’ but Omni had already continued.

  “I most certainly was,” the A.I. agreed. “But more importantly, I think there’s something we haven’t considered in terms of cost.”

  The slight smile faded from my face, and the doors dinged open in front of us. Neka and I followed the tide of people onto the large platform, and I made sure to pull my slight assistant against my chest so she wouldn’t get knocked over by the lumbering masses of the other passengers.

  “And what’s that, O?” I asked the A.I. once the elevator car had begun its descent. The passenger to my left, a Stah'opue, bent one of its purple eyestalks toward me, curious as to whom I was sp
eaking. It dangled right in front of me and blinked. I blinked back. Against my chest, I felt Neka go stock still. Then, ever so slowly, I saw her right hand move in my peripherals. Before she could raise it higher than my chest, I reached around and grabbed her fingers gently but firmly and pulled her hand down. The lilac eye narrowed at us before the Stah'opue pulled it away. The elevator reached the station floor a moment later, and the doors swished open.

  “I wasn’t going to do anything,” Neka muttered petulantly even though I could feel her tail twitch against my leg. We both knew she had been seconds away from batting that eyestalk with her sharp, little, retractable claws.

  We followed the moving tide out of the elevator, and I gave a small jaunty wave to the Stah'opue’s eyestalks as they disappeared into the crowd. “Uh huh, sure,” I said, unconvinced. “Anyway, what were you saying, O?”

  The A.I. waited until we were out of the major throng and moving toward the food section of the marketplace before he responded. “I believe we should hire a ship’s mechanic,” Omni promptly informed us.

  His sentence brought me up short. I actually stopped walking. Neka, whose tail was still wrapped around my belt loop, was tugged to a halt beside me. “Is something wrong with the ship?” I asked Omni, and there was a hitch of fear in my voice I couldn’t mask. “We had the Lacuna serviced not six months ago. Was the hyperdrive running on too little fuel on the way here?”

  I knew we had been low on fuel, but the A.I. hadn’t mentioned any system failures or glitches. Ship parts did not come cheap. Mechanics, at least the good ones, were even more expensive. The three of us could get by on dehydrated food rations, and I could wear this flight suit the rest of my life for all I care.

  But we couldn’t lose our ship. The Lacuna Noctis was the only thing between us and being truly destitute, stuck on whatever rock or station fate chose for us.

  Shit.

  “I think I misspoke,” Omni amended. “There is nothing wrong with the ship currently.”

  “So, you’re anticipating something going wrong?” I asked.