Dreaming of Atmosphere

by Jim C. Wilson

  The air in here was warm and smelly, like sweat or unwashed bodies. Not unusual in a space station with a high population density. There was also a melange of cooking smells, as the various bistros and bar grills did their thing before all people wanted was liquid nourishment. Maxine and I pushed our way through the area, soon arriving before a bar with a narrow entrance, but with a large palatial facade that could only be described as garish. True to its theme, a large sign flashed with the words 'The Crystal Lounge' overhead and we went in.

  Inside was interesting, all the walls were made to resemble natural rock formations, as if we were moving into a cave system. Cleverly placed lights lit our way, making it appear dark, but without making it hard to see where we were going. A small counter was unmanned, but displayed several flyers informing us of live performances or other events taking place soon. We passed the dimly lit counter and made our way into the Lounge main bar.

  The Crystal Lounge itself was a large grotto-like cavern, with a round central bar servicing a dance floor and several booths arranged in a tiered fashion surrounding the bar. All about were dozens of protruding crystal formations, as if they'd grown in the cave. The effect, and the ambiance, was almost surreal. It wasn't hard to imagine that I was actually deep inside a cavern filled with crystals. The crystals themselves caught and refracted subtle lights, and splayed them out across the visible spectrum at all angles.

  The dance floor was empty, and only a few people other than the bartender were in the Lounge. Music, from last year's charts, played from hidden speakers, not too loudly, so people could still carry on a conversation.

  “Show time. There's Isaac. Go grab a beer.” said Max. I complied, stepping through a writhing hologram of undulating water to get to the bar.

  The bar tender eyed me off, guess he wasn't used to serving people this early. He looked even surlier once I asked for a water. Not only was I making him work, but I wasn't handing over any money to the establishment either. His maudlin mood didn't inspire me to leave a tip, my subtle way of saying go screw yourself.

  I sipped my sourly served water and scanned the man that Maxine had walked up to, and then widened my search for any accomplices. I noted that the water tasted somewhat bad, and placed the tumbler on the bar counter. There! I spotted two guys near the rear secreted into a booth, both paying particular interest to my Captain and Isaac Cameron. One was definitely armed, according to my tactical app, and I could bet that his sidekick was armed as well.

  Maxine was standing with her hands on her hips, in a posture that I'd come to learn meant she was dressing down someone, and I could see Isaac was trying to placate her, making feeble apologetic gestures. He indicated a booth nearby, and offered to lead Max over to it. She held up her hand and gestured for me to come over. I left my foul tasting water and joined them as they sat down in the booth.

  “Isaac, this is Seth Donovan, the First Mate of the Dreaming of Atmosphere.” offered Max. I shook his offered hand and kept silent. A second later, an indicator on my display noted that there had been a deposit in my credit account.

  “There. As promised. Payment in full, Captain Cooper.” said Isaac. His accent was Eridanian, his clothes were Harakiwan, and his two thugs were Argessi Argen. A cosmopolitan man. I told him as much.

  “The well-travelled is the well-educated, Mr Donovan. I like to take a piece of every place I visit into my being. Men of my station require such displays of our social standing, much like the Corporate men display their own wealth in everything that they do and are.”

  “Is that what you are? A Corporation man?”

  “No, Mr Donovan, I am small fish compared to them, I assure you. My wealth is in my connection to the worlds that I travel, not in my credit accounts.”

  “So why the hassle to pay us? We did your last job. We've done a few for you before too. What's the deal? We haven't had to jump through hoops to get paid before.”

  “He's a blunt one, isn't he, Captain Cooper?” he turned to Max.

  “He's also sharp, Isaac, he cut through your bullshit in 20 seconds. Why don't you answer him?” Max wasn't in the mood to dance either, it seemed.

  “Ok. You got me. I wanted you here to meet someone.”

  “That's it? Why not tell us over the net? Why the rigmarole?”

  “Well, I wanted to motivate you to ensure you actually came. My friend does not like to be given the run around either, and when someone such as I tell him I can arrange a meeting with someone, he expects results. Here you are. I've let him know you're here and he'll be here shortly.”

  “Who is it?” Max's tone said she wasn't happy being strung along like this. I couldn't blame her. Neither did I. I checked the two goons in the back. I could see their outlines clearly through the back of the booth behind Isaac. By now, my app had picked up the second thug's weapon as well, confirming my suspicion.

  “He's a man of standing in these parts. A benefactor of many enterprises around the station and within the Argessi System.”

  “You mean he's a crime boss?” Ok, now I know Max was pissed.

  “He's a business man. Some of his business may be legally questionable, but he's a straight shooter.”

  “Ok, we're done, Donny. Let’s get out of here.” We stood, so did Isaac. So did his two thugs, I could see. I put my hand on my PX-2 and looked at him deadpan.

  “Tell your thugs in the back to sit back down, or I put two into your chest right now.”

  He looked startled, and then his composure returned. He turned around and gestured to the two Argen and they slowly sat back down.

  “Now then, “ began Isaac as he turned back to face us, “There's no need for this, Mr Jenner only wants to make you a job offer, nothing more.”

  “We don't work for criminals, Cameron, you know this.” accused Max, her finger jabbing at Isaac's expensive Harakiwan suit.

  “Not knowingly, right?” came a new voice from over my shoulder. Damn, he'd gotten the drop on me. Max is going to be having words about this with me I was sure. We all turned to see a shorter than average male of a species I wasn't able to identify right away. One of the many races that make up the minority in galactic society. He was one of the races that could pass for human at a glance, but subtle differences were clear if one looked for longer than a moment. A near human, society would call him. He had dark, almost black hair, sharp small eyes and a straight nose that ended at a point. His tailored suit was almost metallic; it shimmered and caught the refracted light majestically. “My name is Benedict Jenner. It's a pleasure to meet you, Maxine Cooper.”

  Jenner offered his hand to the stunned Maxine; she eyed it as if it were a snake, but took it after a moment’s hesitation. She gave me a slight nod, and we sat.

  “What are you talking about, Jenner?” asked Max

  “I mean that several of your latest exploits are well known to me. Because you were working for me.”

  Max gave Isaac a dirty look, and he shrank back into his seat taking his drink with him.

  “Suppose I just take your word for that. It changes nothing. I don't do work for criminals.”

  “I'm not asking you to do anything illegal. I merely want someone I can trust.”

  “Sorry, that trust has to flow both ways. I'm not getting my crew mixed up in your schemes, or anyone else who doesn't pass my ass-hole detector.”

  His courteous, refined veneer cracked slightly and the corner of his smile dipped by a fraction. Max might not have noticed it, as she was in the middle of a tirade, but I definitely did. I also noticed a few more 'patrons' had entered the bar, placing themselves at covering angles. They didn't even order drinks first. Maybe they already knew how the water tasted.

  “Ms Cooper...”

  “Captain Cooper.” interrupted Max.

  “Captain Cooper, all I ask is that you hear me out. I have a very generous offer, for a task that is well within your capabilities, and within the law I assure you.”

  “Let me guess, it's an offer I can't refuse?�
�

  “You'd be passing on a once in a lifetime opportunity. How many Captains can say they paid off their starship within their command?” Now he had Max's attention.

  Star ships, I should point out at this point, are expensive. Ridiculously expensive. First owner Captains who purchase a ship do so knowing they enter into multi-generational debt cycles, taking loans out from one of several galaxy-spanning mega-corporations – the world builders and terraformers who wield nearly limitless wealth and power. Passing their Captaincy on to a new Captain is not just a handing over of the codes and the stateroom; it's a legally binding act that transfers all remaining debt onto the new Captain of the ship. A Captain that doesn't earn, either for their crew or for the debtors, will lose the ship. It's an act of trust and responsibility, an honour and a curse to be chosen to succeed a retiring Captain. When a ship is paid in full, the reigning Captain essentially becomes a sovereign nation unto themselves, beholden to none, indebted to none, with the whole galaxy at their fingertips to enjoy. If they chose to sell their ship shortly afterwards...well, I did mention that starships are expensive didn't I?

  “I have a measure of pull with some of the Corporations that ply their trade in the Votus-Eridani Network. I can trade a few favours to have what remains of the debt on the Dreaming of Atmosphere to evaporate.”

  “That's quite a feat, if you're telling me the truth.” She looked at Jenner, seeming to see him for the first time.

  “I told you, Maxine,” offered Isaac, “He's a straight shooter. Always has been.”

  She looked at Isaac, then back to Jenner. She seemed to be weighing her choices.

  “What's the catch?”

  “No catch. A simple courier job. Only one complication. A big one, I'll admit, hence the pay out.”

  “You do realise,” I said, “that's pretty much what the definition of a catch is, right?”

  “Semantics.” waved away Jenner.

  “I'll ask again, what's the catch?” asked Max, getting more like her usual wary self.

  “The destination. Ambrose Station.”

  It hit me like a hammer. Memories, half repressed, half haunting me every time my mind was idle. Ambrose Station.

  Gossamer System.

  “Fuck, no.” rejected Max.

  4.

  Ever had those moments when everything just sort of shifted focus, when your mind kind of takes a step back and it's like you're watching the world, and yourself, from two feet behind you? My mouth went dry. My skin broke out in a cold sweat. I was having trouble hearing the rest of the conversation.

  “Absolutely not, Mr Jenner.” I think that was Max, but I couldn't be sure.

  “I am not a man often refused, Ms Cooper.” I could see Jenner's goons moving from their perches in my peripheral vision, but I didn't know what that meant.

  “It's Captain Cooper, ass-hole, and you can get used to being disappointed, we're leaving. Now.” She stood up, grabbed my arm and made to move me out of the booth so she could leave.

  “Let's not do something foolish, Ms Cooper!”

  “Maxine!” said someone who sounded like Isaac, “Think about it! The Dreaming could be yours!”

  “Fuck you, Isaac, and fuck you too, Jenner. Move, Seth!” she gave me a shove and I almost fell out of the booth. I didn't though. I stood and in one smooth motion drew my gun and shot through the booth, hit one of Isaac's thugs who had drawn on us.

  The gun he had drawn flew out of his dead hands, clattering to the 'cavern' floor. Suddenly, I was in full control of my senses once more. Action has a way of doing that to me. Jenner dove under the booth's table, Isaac almost jumped on top of him. I grabbed Max and twirled her around, almost throwing her onto the ground behind the booth as two bright energy bolts hammered into the tabletop. Jenner's goons where in high gear, grabbing cover and firing in my direction. My tactical app told me there were five of them, plus the one left over from Isaac's pathetic posse. I took a knee and rolled to the left, coming up behind a crystal formation. Three swift bolts hit the booth, the floor I just rolled over and the crystal behind which I was crouched. The last one bounced away, refracted by the crystal, and went back towards to bar causing the bar tender to hit the deck behind the counter.

  I pulled out a party popper, pressed the activator and tossed it towards the nearest couple of goons on the dance floor.

  POP!

  A bright flash and a loud pop preceded two screams of pain as the two goons went down, their hands clasped over their ears and eyes. I glanced back at Max; she had her hold out in her hands, crouched behind the booth. More energy blasts struck my crystal and careened off in random directions. Shit, this cover is going to get me killed! Or worse; get Maxine killed! I rose, popped a trio of shots off towards the three remaining Jenner goons, and ran over to the next booth towards the exit. I felt a shot scorch my shoulder as I ran, but my ablative coat dissipated most of the energy. When I was in, I eyed Max and she nodded. I rose again and peppered shots as fast as I could towards the enemy, forcing their heads down. Max used the distraction to run towards me, firing off a shot as she went.

  We were now facing off across the central bar on either side of the lounge, three Jenner goons plus one Isaac goon. Jenner and Isaac were still under the table, hopefully urinating in their expensive suits. I could still hear the two stunned goons crooning on the dance floor. I love my party poppers.

  “What now?” shouted Max in my ear.

  “We make a break for the door, first chance we get!”

  “You know there's going to be more out there, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “And?”

  “I'm thinking!”

  “Hurry up!”

  She tucked herself closer to the booth as shots pounded the booth and the ground around us. I peeked around the edge of the booth and snapped off a shot. I was rewarded with a pain filled shout, although I didn’t think it was fatal, just an arm shot. I heard one of them shout something, catching the word 'flank' and I went into action again. I switched sides with Max and fired out from the other side of the booth, almost hitting another goon as he dove across the bar and fell down behind the counter. I had an idea. I fired several shots into the liquor shelved behind the bar counter. Several of them popped and spilled their contents down onto the two below. The barman rose up in a panic and dove over the counter to crash down onto the floor below and I used the distraction to hit another goon in the chest. The other hit the deck.

  “Go!” I yelled. Maxine scrambled towards the door, head down firing blindly towards the bar. A stray shot hit one of the puddles of liquid that had formed after my antics, igniting it. A swooshing sound followed by screaming told me the unfortunate goon still under the bar would also not be leaving a tip for the barman today. In the chaos, I made a break for the door as well.

  As soon as I was into the passage that lead to the entrance, I stopped. Halfway up the passage was Maxine, sitting on another goon’s chest and pistol-whipping him repeatedly with her hold out blaster.

  “Come on!” I yelled as a jumped over her. I got to the doors and took a peak. The streets were starting to get busy, but I could see a group of mean looking thugs waiting for us out there. They didn't seem alerted to the gunfight, however. That would change, as soon as Jenner poked his head out from under his table and called them. On the other hand, maybe not.

  I rummaged through a satchel slung around my shoulder and pulled out my scrambler. I hesitated before activating it. If I set this, the local authorities won't be alerted either. Not before we wouldn’t need them anymore.

  “Do it.” said Max from behind me. She didn't look too ruffled by the recent gunfight, or the beating. She was still adjusting her strap though. “Quit looking at my tits and scramble those ass-holes”

  “Yes, ma'am.” I hit it, tucked it onto the counter by the entrance and casually stepped out the door, Max close behind me.

  The goons, about seven or eight of them, eyed us suspiciously. As far as they were c
oncerned, everything was fine and the meeting was over. I nodded to them. I kept walking towards the crowd. We almost made it.

  The door to the Crystal Lounge burst open, the last goon, the one I'd shot in the arm earlier stumbled out and let off a spray of energy blasts into the crowd before he saw us and retrained his aim. We bolted, everyone bolted, everyone screamed. The goons shouted and ran after us. I tossed my last party popper behind me, hoping I didn't just ruin a bunch of civilians’ night for nothing and headed towards an access hatch down a side alley up ahead.

  “In here!” I shouted, yanking off the grill and turning to guard the alley entrance. Two goons ran into view and I shot at them, forcing them to dive back out of the way. I could hear Max calling for me as she dove head first into the duct. I dove in after her. We slid for about thirty seconds, almost straight down. That can't be good, I thought. Max started to slow her descent with her legs and hands, but I kept slipping and falling onto her. We kept going down, and eventually a curve began to form. We slid for another minute before the curve allowed us to stop altogether. We were both banged up and bruised, covered in foul tasting water and had friction burns on our hands. We were both panting, catching our breath. Max spoke first.

  “Well my strap broke. I'm pretty sure my good bra did too.”

  I laughed; Max joined me for a few moments.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Down a drain, it would seem.”

  “I can see that. Wow, I can smell that too! What kind of drain?”

  “The kind you don't jump head first into with your mouth open.”

  “Couldn't be helped. I was screaming, and I think I swallowed some of that water.”

  “Me too. I wasn't screaming though, that was all you, Donny.”

  “Liar, I'm pretty sure I heard a squeal as we went down.”

  “That was me yelling 'Weeeeeee!' I don't squeal.”