Outpost

by W. Michael Gear

  “And if the Supervisor declares that she has no more room?”

  Talina gave him a grim smile. “Well, Shig, she’s a rational sort. Capable of weighing evidence and balancing the pros and cons of an argument. All I have to do is get close enough to shove the muzzle of my pistol into her ear. Once I explain the situation, I’m sure she’ll be most judicious in her reply. Especially knowing that if our people don’t get a chance to choose, she’s not going back on that ship either.”

  23

  The image of his father’s penis filled Dan Wirth’s mind as he lay staring up at Allison’s bedroom ceiling. That that particular memory—so long forgotten—should pop into his head now, left him suddenly uneasy. He’d been what? Four? Maybe five?

  His father had been laying on the bed, naked and masturbating when Dan entered the room. Not that little Dan had understood. Father had stopped, stared at him with those clever and hard eyes.

  “Climb up here, boy. Take it in your hands.” Father’s voice seemed to echo inside Dan’s skull.

  He remembered climbing onto the bed, staring at how proudly that erection rose from the soft cushion of dark pubic hair. He’d been fascinated by the swollen pink glans, curious about the thick veins that ran like worms down the sides.

  “I mean it. Take it.”

  Dan had been surprised by how warm it was, wood-hard under the delicate skin.

  “Squeeze it, boy.”

  His father had sighed, closed his eyes and leaned his head back, before saying, “Now, put it in your mouth . . .”

  “Do you really have to go off to your game?” Allison interrupted the memory, voice petulant.

  The image in Dan’s head popped, leaving him feeling frustrated and disgusted. Fucking dumb kid that he’d been. He’d been what? Twelve before he’d gotten wise enough to sneak in during the middle of the night and lay a chef’s knife across his father’s throat. And when the old man had blinked awake, he’d whispered, “You ever make me suck your cock again, you’ll wake up in blood.”

  That was the moment he’d become a man. Figured out who he was—and how the world really worked.

  “Dan? Baby?” Allison lay beside him, head back on the pillow, her blonde hair spread like a halo. The sheet was twisted around her hips and right thigh. Her left arm was draped across her brow, and she stared up at the bedroom ceiling with glassy eyes, her pupils large and black against blue irises.

  The drug was commonly called Eros, and in some circles it was considered the triumph of twenty-first-century pharmaceuticals. In small doses it not only altered the limbic system—numbing fear, fight, and flight, and enhancing libido—but it intensified the physical sensations of erotic stimulation and orgasm by a factor of two.

  Outlawed as addictive for more than a century, it was nevertheless the staple of a thriving underground industry back in Solar System. Dan had thoughtfully obtained a half pint that he’d disguised in a cognac bottle and had sealed in his duffel.

  She glanced at his erection, asked, “Thinking of me again?”

  “Nope.” He gave her a sardonic grin. “Thinking about my father. How thoroughly the sick son of a bitch used me. But then, given what I could do to him in return? Just by a mere accusation? I own that poor bastard.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “Nothing.” As if he’d ever tell another living soul. “But for him manipulating the personnel data, there’s no way I’d have ever scored a berth on Turalon.” Or a new identity. And God alone knew how close Corporate security had been to catching him before he stepped into Dan Wirth’s manure-stained boots.

  As he rolled off the bed, he shot Allison a shy smile. “As much as I hate to, I’ve got a game.”

  She sighed, the action almost theatrical. “How’d you do that? You won almost two thousand yuan? Just playing cards in that place?”

  “More than that, actually. Betty gets ten percent.” He dressed, irritated that the crotch of his overalls cramped his erection. What the hell? Thinking of the old man should have left him as limp as yesterday’s laundry.

  “Can’t you play cards somewhere else?”

  “I’ll start an occasional game at the Tavern, but for the moment, I need to scout the lay of the land. Figure out where I can work a deal to get a private room.”

  “Why don’t you buy a place?”

  “Buy a place?” He tried to keep the derision out of his voice. “Ah, perhaps wander into the administration dome, knock on the Supervisor’s door, and inquire, ‘Would The Corporation sell me a dome to use as a casino?’”

  She gave him the pinched-lip look that she did when he said something stupid. “No, I mean buy a place from whomever owns it. Pay them money for their deed.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Listen, Clemenceau was dead. It had been years since a ship had shown up. There were getting to be fewer and fewer of us. We didn’t know if The Corporation was ever coming back. So we all got a piece of Port Authority. Surveyed it out. Drew up deeds to property and titles to pieces of equipment.” She made a dismissive gesture. “We’re just keeping quiet about it until we find out what’s going to happen. Word is Shig, Yvette, and Tal are going to see how the Supervisor comes down on the idea.”

  Deeds? Titles? These fools thought they owned property? “She’ll never go for it.”

  “Whispers are that she’s thinking about abandoning the colony. Evacuating everyone who doesn’t want to stay.”

  “Turalon can’t carry them all. She’s not big enough.”

  Allison gave a flip of the head. “Then the title question is moot, isn’t it? What’s left is ours to do with as we want.”

  “Assuming we can stay alive without supply.” If they could, a vacuum would be left in the wake of The Corporation’s withdrawal. He could end up a very big fish in a very small and possibly shrinking pond. Assuming he didn’t mind getting his hands a little dirty in the process.

  Blood—he’d learned by the time he was sixteen—washed off with soap and water.

  What matter? It wasn’t like there was anything to go back to in Solar System. While the odds were that they’d never find the real Dan Wirth’s body, if he went back his time would be measured in hours rather than days. The first required medical exam as he was deboarding Turalon would turn up a discrepancy in the DNA, and maybe even blood type. Once that was put into the system for clarification, it would all come undone.

  He’d already sucked his father dry of any benefit the old man might have left. And for all Dan knew, in the meantime since Turalon shipped, Corporate security might have stumbled onto the old man’s record tampering.

  Better to be a king in Port Authority than an executed corpse tossed headlong into a hydroponics vat back on Transluna.

  “It all depends on what the Supervisor decides?” That notion intrigued him. “Have you heard anything about that?”

  “Mellie Nagargina works in the control room. She hasn’t heard anything straight out, but there’s rumors that they aren’t shuttling all the crates up to Turalon. And you’ve heard how they’re buying up all the produce.”

  He had indeed. Via several of the farmers who patronized Betty Able’s establishment, Corporate SDRs had been flowing into his pockets.

  She added, “None of the ships ever bought so much produce before, Dan. Not like this.”

  “Trying to balance additional mouths against the output of the hydroponics,” he guessed. “I worked there. Turalon was barely able to feed the crew and four hundred of us as it was. Makes you wonder if that’s what happened to the other ships. Something broke and they starved to death.”

  Another reason he wasn’t going back.

  “So what do you think?” She was studying him as if he were a divine oracle. Damn, he loved it when a woman looked at him with adoring eyes like that. Reminded him of Cylie before she went all apeshit on him.

/>   “So, Betty owns her joint?”

  “Well, she’s got title. Assuming Aguila either honors it, or doesn’t stay on Donovan with her marines to enforce any damn order she gives.”

  Dan chuckled as he pulled on his boots. Life had indeed just become a great deal more interesting.

  “Do me a favor, dearest love. While I’m at work, spend a little more time around Millie. See what else she hears.”

  “Dan, Millie will know it’s coming from me if you start spreading it around.”

  “Anything but! Allison, this is for us. And only us. You can’t tell Felicity or Trish.”

  Her brow lined slightly. “I won’t. It’s like something’s changed. They don’t say it outright, but since you moved in, they’re different. Like they don’t trust me anymore.”

  Of course not. They can see the changes, Allison my love. You’re not the woman you used to be.

  He took one last moment to revel in the lines of her body, and to savor the beauty she was.

  Perfect. Just perfect.

  He was still smiling as he walked out her door and headed toward the game.

  24

  What the hell was it about that woman? Cap—despite all of his better judgment—couldn’t help but be intrigued by Talina Perez.

  He perched off to the side of the Supervisor’s office, his back to the wall, butt resting on the corner of a crate. In the three chairs facing Kalico’s desk sat Yvette Dushane, Shig Mosadek, and Talina Perez.

  Through the window at his shoulder he could see the latest shuttle loading bales of carrots, peas, and potatoes, much of it still a month or so shy of ripe. Didn’t matter. It was digestible, if not at the pinnacle of taste. Vacuum dried, it might not be an epicurean repast, but it would augment the hydroponics.

  Survival fare for the masses. Thank God I’m an officer.

  He turned his attention back to Talina Perez—a much preferable diversion to thinking about the long and tedious passage back to Solar System.

  Assuming they even made it back. A possibility that was gnawing ever deeper into his subconscious. Mekong had vanished without a trace. Not knowing the fate of the missing ships—not even having a clue as to why, let alone where they’d disappeared to—loosened the heebee jeebees to slip along his bones.

  Better to concentrate on Perez.

  Cap had thought her to be an attractive woman from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her: The planes of her face, those large dark eyes, the delicate nose, and the fall of ink-black hair imparted an exotic beauty that had only been accented by her healing scar and the cast on her leg. Tough, pretty, and wounded—with some dangerous quality that he couldn’t quite describe.

  But what had really sealed it for him was the way she’d shut down that riot at the trial. Nipped it in the bud with a bellowed command. That image of her kicking the chair into Allenovich’s way, the fiery stance she’d taken, kept replaying in his mind. By God in heaven, she’d looked magnificent as she faced them down.

  Had he really been ready to execute her like a common criminal?

  Stop it! You’re spacing out of here within the week.

  When he went, so, too, went any chance of getting to know who and what Talina Perez really was.

  Exotic? Hell yes! There were times she had an almost alien quality, as if some other intelligence was staring back at him through those haunting dark eyes.

  The perfect woman? His skeptical thoughts lingered on that.

  “Thank you for seeing us, Supervisor,” Yvette Dushane began. “We know your time is precious, so we won’t take much of it.”

  “That would be appreciated. What can I do for you?” Kalico’s voice carried ice.

  Talina bluntly stated: “How about, just this once, honesty?”

  Cap watched Kalico stiffen. “I assure you, I have—”

  “Yes, yes,” Yvette waved it away, her slender hand flicking as if at a fly. “So how about you just tell us straight: How many people can Turalon actually carry? We’ve figured out that you are abandoning Donovan. We’re used to running the figures on production, and you’re leaving valuable cargo behind in order to pack additional food. That suggests more people than the hydroponics can support.”

  Shig added, “Which means you find yourself in the unenviable position, under contract, of having to return all of your transportees as well as those who have fulfilled their contract and request transportation home. No doubt it would be easier and preferable to leave them all behind and maximize profit from the minerals, but lawsuits brought by the outraged families over contract violation and abandonment would not only damage The Corporation’s reputation, they’d cost more in the long run.”

  Talina then added, “Nor can you ignore the one hundred and thirty-six Donovanians who have requested return. The transportees would ultimately report that you’d left them behind.”

  “So, you’re stuck taking them all,” Yvette finished as she crossed her arms.

  “What is your point?” Kalico barely managed to keep her voice civil.

  Yvette cocked her head, smiling. “Talina’s been conducting an unofficial poll. She’s been asking, ‘If it came down to it, would you go back if Turalon was the last ship to Earth?’ Looks like you’ve only got another fifteen or so takers.”

  “The rest want to stay?” Kalico leaned forward.

  “Even more would, with some incentive.” Yvette held her stare.

  “Such as?”

  “You know that in The Corporation’s absence, we granted deeds to individuals for property. We didn’t do that lightly, but as contracts ran out, and no ship appeared in the sky, we had to find a way to keep people motivated. With a deed in hand, people started businesses, farms, mines, you name it.”

  “You had no authority. It’s still Corporate property.”

  Yvette shrugged. “You want to keep from having a run on the ship when it finally gets out that you’re leaving for good? That there will be no more ships. Ever?”

  Shig was giving her that inoffensive look of understanding. “That means that essentially you are violating all the contracts . . . even for those who haven’t finished their terms of engagement.” He paused. “That will have to be dealt with when you return to Transluna. Someone will say, ‘What about the people you left behind?’”

  “We can solve that problem for you, Supervisor,” Yvette continued. “All you have to do is validate their deeds and claims. Once you do, you call it ‘negotiated compensation.’ Your hands are clean. The Corporation owes them nothing. You have no legal liability.”

  “And they’d sign such an agreement?” Cap asked in disbelief. “The Corporation is their only way of ever getting off this rock.”

  Talina shot him a sidelong look. “Hey, Skull, what have they got to look forward to back there? Sure, there’s family and friends. But even with the bonus, they still face the rest of their lives in a high-rise, or a cubicle on a station, or a piddling job packed in with a bunch of soft meat who’ve never scrambled. They know they’re going to be paying rent for the rest of their lives. The Corporation owns everything back there.”

  Cap almost smiled at the challenge in her dark-eyed stare.

  Kalico responded, “They all came here as Corporate contractees. Doesn’t matter that their contracts have run out, they’re living on Corporate property. Using Corporate equipment and dwellings. By the strictest terms of the law, they’re Corporate wards who—by virtue of their presence on and utilization of Corporate property—have placed themselves under my control. This whole rock of a planet is Corporate property. Why should I give up so much as a square inch of it?”

  “I suppose it’s outside of your intellectual paradigm”—Shig arched expressive brows—“but let me try to explain. Inga’s tavern? That’s hers. To run as she pleases. Were she to go back to Mars, she could probably contract with The Corporation to administer a tav
ern for a specified period, pending renewal based on satisfactory profit and efficiency. However, her inventory, prices, hours of operation, and profit would be dictated by Corporate algorithms.”

  Kalico coldly stated, “The algorithms ensure that everything is fair, and all people are treated equally. The system is efficient. Goods are ordered in proportion to their anticipated demand at a given point of sale. There is no waste, shortages are rare. And when they occur, goods are fairly rationed. Prices are controlled and balanced to income and demand. There are no surprises, no errors. It’s safe, serves the common good.”

  “Safe?” Talina said the word with such distaste that Cap squirmed.

  “And sterile,” Yvette added softly. “No risk. No freedom.”

  Kalico began twiddling her stylus between her thumb and fingers. “Your definition of freedom smacks of chaos and confusion. Why would anyone want to trade Donovan for home? People die here. There’s no future beyond deprivation and uncertainty.”

  “As you see it.” Yvette arched a mocking eyebrow. “Just assume we’re all crazy here and don’t have the sense to understand what bliss we’re turning down back in Solar System. You’ve still got a problem: too many people to jam into the last ship headed home. We’ve got a solution: as Supervisor, you can validate our deeds. Sign over The Corporation’s interest in Port Authority. Why not? You’re leaving. Which means that it’s ours in the end no matter what you decide.”

  “And what do we get out of this?” Cap demanded. “Like you say, once we space, anyone left behind can do with Port Authority as they wish.”

  Talina gave him a knowing look. “If Supervisor Aguila agrees to this? It makes a statement. A symbolic one. We’re betting that once word gets out, Turalon will head back with empty berths, and you can pack all that space that would have been filled with unprofitable people with valuable metals and gems instead.”

  Kalico glanced uncertainly at Cap. “Would anyone actually agree to this? Stay behind just to call a square of Donovan’s dirt their own?”