Planet Broker

by Eric Vall

  I felt warmth bloom in my chest, and my heart skipped a beat. Sometimes I forgot how beautiful my assistant really was.

  Okay, I never really forgot but… I tried not to notice. The last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable or worse, remind her of the predatory men from her past. So I pushed aside my attraction and did my best to treat her as a friend: kindly and cordially.

  “It looks real good on you,” I told her honestly and then reached out to ruffle her hair. “Though I have to say, it’s tamer than your usual outfits.” The cat-girl typically enjoyed bright colors, flashy patterns, and bizarre designs or materials.

  Neka pouted, the tips of her fangs resting adorably on her bottom lip. “I know,” she sighed. “The fashion here is very unisex and monochromatic. The only reason this is has any color at all is because Odrine turns yellow once it’s refined.” She flapped the edge of her coat at me.

  “Wait, is there actually Odrine in this?” I reached out and snagged the material, and it was heavier than I expected. I ran my finger across what I had thought was yellow thread. It felt cool to the touch, slippery almost.

  “Yes,” Omni answered for my assistant. “Most of the textiles on Theron have at least some metal ore woven into the fabric.” The AI spoke through the ship’s speakers instead of my suit’s built-in earpiece. I assumed, probably, because Neka no longer wore hers. We had purchased low-grade external communication devices at the market, but they were still somewhere in one of these boxes. Maybe I’d tinker with our old flight suits once we were en route to Proxima V and see if I couldn’t extract the communication tech to insert into our new clothes.

  “But it’s used to construct ships,” I said, confused. “Why would they waste it on clothing?”

  “I believe it is a remnant from when Oevis was still producing the ore regularly,” Omni said. “The tensile strength of the material is incredibly high. This results in more durable clothing that is less susceptible to wear and tear and high impacts, and can handle a large range of variable temperatures. Perfect for mining or mechanic work conditions.”

  “So it’s like armor?” I asked dubiously. I pulled the black garment away from Neka’s body. The material didn’t seem very thick.

  “Well, after a fashion,” the AI cautioned. “With Odrine so depleted, the ratio of the ore in textile material has lessened. An article such as the one Neka is wearing has about one-tenth of the Odrine it would have had at the peak of Oevis’ production. It can still absorb the impact of a low-velocity strike, and it is more insulated than other materials, but it will not act as a life-saving measure if that is what you are inquiring.”

  “That’s okay,” I said as I dropped the fabric and winked at my assistant. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  Neka giggled and spun side to side, making her coattails flap. It felt good to see her happy. “You’re always saving me, CT,” she said before she looked up with a mock scowl. “One of these days, it’s going to be my turn to save you!”

  I reached out and rubbed between the cat-girl’s ears. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she purred in content. “I have no doubt,” I assured her.

  “In the meantime,” Omni interrupted, another one of his mechanical arms descending from the ceiling. He carried something between the metal digits.

  “Aw, you shouldn’t have,” I said as he dropped what I realized was fabric into my hands. It felt familiarly cool and heavy, and I could see a hint of yellow.

  “We can match again!” Neka crowed with excitement. She bounced up and down on her toes happily.

  She was mostly correct. The jumpsuit was almost exactly the same if not as form fitting as hers. Thankfully. The outerwear was a little different, more a compliment to hers than an exact match. Midnight black and made from the same material as my assistant's, my coat was more traditional. It had sleeves, for one thing, all the way down to the wrists. It had a high collar as well, but then I noticed an extra flap that could be extended into a hood. The shape of it reminded me of an old Earth duster coat, with a little extra padding in the shoulders. The same yellow metal ore ran along the seams.

  “When did you even buy this?” I asked with a laugh. “I didn't think I had taken my eyes off you for too long yesterday.”

  The cat-girl shrugged. “It was when you were haggling over prices for the medical supplies.”

  “Hey!” I said in mock indignation. “I don't haggle. I negotiate.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Neka said, obviously not listening. She had started to turn me toward the back of the cargo hold where all the supply boxes were stacked. “Go try it on already! We wanna see!”

  I wanted to dig my heels in and argue. We still had inventory to catalog and put away, and we also had to do a systems check, and a dozen other things before we could take off in a few hours, but the slight cat-girl put her head down and continued to shove me until I finally relented.

  “Fine, fine,” I said in exasperation. “I’ll change! Give me some room, jeeze.”

  My assistant chirped happily as I finally ducked behind the tallest stack of boxes. I stuck my head back around the corner of the stack and narrowed my eyes at her.

  I pointed my finger at her. “No peeking,” I told her in mock seriousness. Neka grinned like a Cheshire and placed her hands over her eyes. Behind her, her tail swished back and forth in anticipation.

  As much as I hated the red and blue flight suit, and the Corporation it represented, the uniform had become a sort of second skin in the last almost ten years. When on shore leave, whether planetside or on a station, I typically preferred casual clothing, jeans, t-shirts, etcetera When I brokered meetings, I usually wore suits in expensive fabrics, since I needed to be the “face” of Terra-Nebula to whatever native population we were dealing with. But the majority of my time was spent in transit, in space, as I went from deal to deal, so most of my life as a broker had been spent in this flight suit. There was a feeling of finality as the fabric slid to the floor in a heap at my feet. I did my best to shake it off as I started to pull on the pieces my assistant had bought for me.

  I thought the jumpsuit might feel restrictive and the coat too heavy, but it all fit like a dream. I bet Omni had given Neka my exact measurements before she had made the purchase. I settled the coat across my shoulders. The weight of it felt good, almost comforting. I twisted this way and that, stretched my arms above my head, and dropped into a low crouch. The clothing moved with me seamlessly, and I couldn't help but smile.

  “Okay,” I called out to Neka. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes!” the cat-girl yowled impatiently. “Let us see, let us see!”

  I stepped out from behind the boxes with a flourish, my arms spread out at my sides. “So?” I asked and gave a small spin like my assistant had. “What do you think?”

  Neka’s eyes went wide as she took in my ensemble. “O-oh. You look ... you look good,” she stuttered out, and a blush stained her cheeks.

  “It's alright,” Omni added, and I rolled my eyes at the AI.

  “Thanks for these, Neka,” I told the cat-girl. “They fit perfectly.”

  My assistant waved her hand dismissively, and her eyes darted everywhere but my face. “It ... it was nothing,” she muttered.

  Before I could respond, an electronic beeping filled the cargo hold. Neka and I looked at each other in confusion. “That is the hour reminder, Colby,” Omni informed me.

  “Shit,” I cursed and looked around in a mild panic. How had the day gotten away from us? An hour to our departure, and we hadn't even secured our supplies yet. Granted, the world wouldn’t end if we missed our departure time, but then we’d have to find another time and clear it with the harbormaster again. I didn’t want to go through that whole process twice.

  Besides, we didn't even have our whole crew yet.

  Neka seemed to be thinking of our wayward mechanic, too, because she met my eyes anxiously. “Do you think she’ll come?” my assistant asked quietly, almost like she was worried that if she vo
iced the question too loud it would jinx us.

  I wished I could tell her yes with absolute certainty but ... I couldn’t.

  After we had shaken hands on our deal yesterday, Akela had accompanied us straight to the nearest bank to have us transfer her the 10,000 U-credits. I had tried to postpone the trip until this morning since we hadn’t even done our shopping yet, but the mechanic refused. She had said she needed the money to get her affairs in order, and she didn’t want us spending her share preemptively. I couldn’t disagree with her reasoning, so we made the transfer. Outside the bank, we had parted ways, and I told her which dock she could find us at and the time the harbor master had given us for our departure. The mechanic said she’d meet us on the Lacuna Noctis in the morning, but we had yet to see her as we had made our last trips to and from the market today. We also hadn’t received any type of message from her either.

  My ability to read people might be stronger than most, but it wasn’t infallible. I’d been wrong before. I thought I might have understood her, given our respective familial pasts, but maybe I didn’t. Maybe she simply wanted the money, and Neka and I looked like easy targets. Even better, easy targets wearing the uniform of her enemy.

  I didn’t think she was lying about her father being dead, the pain had been too real, too stark, in her face, but she could have been lying about her mother or at least the part where that 10,000 U-credits were for her mother.

  I suddenly felt very stupid for giving Akela those credits so easily. After our extensive shopping expeditions, we didn’t have much money left. Definitely not enough to pay for another mechanic, and that means we wouldn’t be able to leave the station, at least not directly for Proxima V. We’d have to find a way to make some quick, petty cash if we had any hope of continuing our mission.

  I contemplated our options. While I could probably make a good haul again at the casinos located on the uppermost levels of the station, I would have to leave Neka and Omni back on the ship, and neither of them would like that.

  Damn it. I wanted to trust that the mechanic was a woman of her word but you never really knew people…

  “Maybe we should go look for her,” I suggested. I shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. “For all we know, she took too long packing or something. She is leaving her whole life behind, after all.”

  “That’s true…” Neka nodded her assent. “What about the supplies though?” she questioned as she gestured to the towers of boxes behind me.

  The question gave me pause. Most of the boxes were too heavy for Neka to lift on her own, but I also didn’t want her venturing out into Theron on her own.

  “Damn it,” I muttered and rubbed at the back of my neck. “I guess--”

  “I will put away the supplies while you and Neka find our engineer,” Omni cut me off. “I’ll also run the systems checks so we will be ready for takeoff when you return.”

  Suddenly, there was a whirl of machinery from the depths of the ship and the hiss of hydraulics, like a door had been opened somewhere. The cat-girl and I shared a look of surprise before one of the stacks of boxes began to shudder and slowly started to slide across the cargo hold floor.

  I let out a startled laugh as I caught sight of what was moving them. “Ha! I completely forgot we even had those!”

  A while back, after I had once again refused to buy Omni a full sleeve, the AI had pouted for days. It got to the point where I started to feel a little bad, so the next time we’d made a pit stop, I’d bought the three mini-drones that were now working together to move the supply boxes to their rightful places. The small robots weren’t very big, about the size of a four-year-old child. They moved around on continuous tracks, like twentieth-century tanks, and had multiple, interchangeable arms that each had different tools attached to them. As long as the drones were within range of the ship, Omni could pilot them remotely.

  “If I had a full sleeve, I could have accomplished this by myself already,” the AI said, only a little bitterly. “And I could have accompanied you on your search for Ms. Loric.”

  “Alright, alright,” I replied with a roll of my eyes. “Next payday, buddy, and I promise I’ll look into getting you an affordable sleeve.”

  “Thank you, Colby. That’s all I ask.”

  I shook my head and turned to my assistant, but Neka had started to track the drones’ movements with a predator’s gaze, and I knew we’d better get going before she started to give chase.

  “Come on, killer,” I said to the cat-girl as I batted at her tail to grab her attention. “Let’s go find our mechanic.”

  Reluctantly, my assistant tore her gaze from the drones and blinked at me as her eyes refocused. I held out my arm and expected her to come up and wrap her tail around my wrist as she always did. Instead, however, she drew up beside me and linked her arm through mine, interlocking us at the elbow.

  “Lead the way, CT,” Neka said with a soft smile as she looked up into my face, and I couldn’t help but return her smile as something went warm in my chest once more.

  “You’d follow me anywhere, wouldn’t you?” I mused. I meant it as a teasing jest, but the cat-girl only blinked her big, yellow eyes at me as she squeezed my arm.

  “Of course,” she said with simple but ardent sincerity like there was no other possible answer. She frowned slightly and her ears dropped a degree. “That’s… still okay, right?”

  The insecurity in her voice made my heart clench. The cat-girl was rarely sure of herself, and with so much in our lives uncertain now, it seemed she needed an extra bit of reassurance. Before I could stop myself or over think what I was doing, I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “More than okay,” I murmured against her bangs. “I’d be lost without my copilot.”

  Neka purred, her cheeks pink again, and arm in arm, we started to make our way down the loading ramp. “We’ll be back soon, Omni,” I called out to the AI.

  One of the drones paused and waved its mechanical arm at us. “Do not get lost, Colby,” Omni cautioned us. “Since the two of you are no longer wearing your flight suits, I will not be able to communicate with you once you leave the ship.”

  I raised my unoccupied arm above my head and gave the AI a thumbs-up. “Got it. We’ll be careful!”

  “I’ll keep my eye on him!” Neka promised Omni with a giggle, and with that, we exited the ship and waved goodbye to our resident AI.

  “Are you guys going somewhere?” a voice suddenly said, and Neka and I spun in unison to see Akela. She looked like she had just come around the corner of the entrance to the docking bay.

  Instead of the coveralls she had worn yesterday, the silver-haired mechanic was wearing black cargo pants and a gray tank top made from the same material as our coats, though hers were stained and ragged. There was also a large duffle bag slung over her shoulder, and it looked like it weighed more than she did. She adjusted it and glanced over her shoulder, and that’s when I realized she wasn’t alone.

  Another woman stood behind her on the loading ramp, and she looked uncertain and out of place. It took me a moment to place her as the mechanic’s mother. They shared none of the same coloring: the older woman had dark brown eyes and auburn hair, whereas her daughter was a study of metals and gemstones. But they shared the same elfin nose, the same sharp features, the lines of their mouths carved from the same mold.

  The four of us stood there frozen. None of us seemed to know what to say. Out of all the scenarios that had run through my head, the mechanic’s mother never even crossed my mind. Were Akela and her mother here to refuse us in person?

  At my side, Neka shifted nervously but then nudged me to step forward with a quiet trill. I swallowed tightly but took the initiative and pasted on my best broker smile. I might have been thrown for a loop here, but if there’s one thing I do well, it’s think on my feet.

  “Hello,” I said as I crossed the distance between us. My shoes seemed absurdly loud as I crossed the cargo bay. I smiled at the mechanic’s mother and offered
her my hand. “My name is Colby. You must be Mrs. Loric. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The woman stared at my hand for a moment but didn’t take it. Instead, she lifted her eyes to mine, and even if they weren’t the same color, her daughter had her eyes. Or at least the fire in them.

  “Will you bring her back to me?” is all she said. Her voice was quiet but strong. She didn’t respond to my pleasantries. She didn’t ask about the contract her daughter had “figuratively” signed or the mission we were about to embark on. She wanted to know if I was going to make her bury the last of her family.

  I stood up straight and met her gaze for gaze. “I intend to,” I told her honestly.

  “I didn’t ask what your intentions were. I asked if you are going to bring my daughter back to me. Alive,” she added as if that was a qualification she needed to make. Given the tragedies in her past, perhaps it was.

  I didn’t respond to her right away. I could have. I could have told her that yes, of course, nothing bad will happen, everything will be just fine. But I wasn’t in the habit of making promises I couldn’t keep and, like her daughter, I gathered this woman would be able to detect a lie from a kilometer away.

  So, only after I had considered my words very carefully did I say, “I will look after your daughter as if she were my own family.”

  Neka suddenly stepped up from behind me, and her tail wound around my wrist. Akela’s mother shifted her gaze from me to the cat-girl, and her eyes scanned my assistant from head to toe.

  “Is he an honest man?” she asked Neka as if I weren’t even there.

  The cat-girl lifted her chin and nodded. “The only one I’ve ever met,” she replied.