by Jake Elwood
Chan, Joss, and Liz left through the aft airlock. Chan thought of Rhett as a member of the crew, but the Mercurians likely wouldn't, and Chan liked the idea of having a wild card still in play if the rest of them were locked up. He trudged down the ramp, stumbling a bit as the gravity changed, and found himself facing half a dozen figures with shoulder guns and armored vac suits. The suits had chest logos that read "Planetary Security."
Chan, moving carefully and keeping his hands away from his sides, followed a soldier across the scorched stone surface of the landing pad. Liz and Joss followed, with more armed men taking up stations on either side. Mercury's gravity was just over a third of a gee, and Chan bounced as he walked, looking a good deal more jaunty than he felt.
The soldier led him to a long steel building that Chan took for a hangar. There was room in the lock for six, and he found himself jammed against his crew with a trio of guards around them, rifles uncomfortably close. At last the lock finished cycling and Chan blinked as the inner doors slid open.
The building, it turned out, wasn't a hangar at all. A Planetary Defense logo decorated the floor of a broad reception room, and an efficient young woman in a gold uniform buzzed them through into an interior corridor. The soldiers, still in their vac suits, prodded the prisoners down the corridor. A curt gesture sent Chan into a little cell not more than two meters square. A steelglass door slid shut behind him.
He saw Liz and Joss go by in the corridor. A couple of men in vac suits went by, then a man in a gold jumpsuit. Then nothing.
He sighed. Whatever happened next was entirely out of his hands. He took off his helmet and sniffed the air. The cell was stuffy and smelled faintly of urine. He was becoming uncomfortably warm in his vac suit, so he put the helmet on the floor and set about unsealing the front of the suit.
A bunk on one wall and a sink were the extent of the amenities. He got out of the vac suit, stowed it under the bunk, and flopped back on the bunk to wait for developments.
Most of two hours passed before a young soldier appeared on the other side of the steelglass door. He was a dazzling specimen of young manhood, like something from a recruiting poster, broad in the shoulder and lean at the waist with a flat-top haircut and a lantern jaw. He surveyed Chan sternly through the door, then touched a button on the wall outside. The door hissed open.
"Come with me." The look in his eyes said he hoped Chan would resist.
"Sure." Chan stepped into the hall, suffered the man to take him by the upper arm, and let himself be marched down the corridor. The soldier was a good eight centimeters shorter than Chan, who was not a tall man. It was the only flaw in his poster-boy image. Chan considered half a dozen smart-alecky comments, then wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.
The soldier delivered him to a door labelled "Colonel O'Rourke." The colonel was a beefy, harassed-looking man of about fifty with brown skin despite his Irish name. He gestured Chan to a chair, then leaned fleshy elbows on a battered steel desk and fixed Chan with a glare. The young soldier took up a position just behind Chan's chair. Chan stared placidly into the colonel's face and waited to see what would happen next.
"I don't like you," the colonel said at last.
Chan didn't bother replying. He wasn't a particularly good Buddhist, but he'd learned long ago that there was power in rolling with the punches while you waited for a battle you could win. True acceptance would be better, he supposed, but the appearance of acceptance could be useful too.
"I don't like your two girlfriends, either."
Chan couldn't quite hide a tiny smile. If O'Rourke had just been interrogating Liz or Joss, it would certainly explain why he looked harassed.
"You're pirates, and you're smugglers, and you're going to be in prison for a long, long time."
There didn't seem to be a need to reply. Chan focused on his breathing and gazed at a spot just above the colonel's left shoulder.
"She sold you out, you know." The colonel smirked. "Told us everything. We've got enough to put you away until you're an old man." He straightened in his chair and spread his hands in a magnanimous gesture. "But there's still a chance for a reduced sentence. You can tell us your side of things."
Chan laughed. He knew that antagonizing the colonel was foolish, but he couldn't help it. Liz was about as easy to intimidate as a grouchy Kodiak bear, and Joss had skills of manipulation that this cop could only dream of. She would have had him apologizing and offering her tea inside of ten minutes. If he'd wrung a confession from either of them, Chan was willing to eat his helmet.
The colonel's face darkened. "You think this is some kind of a joke? Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in right now?"
Chan smoothed his features, took a deep breath, and shrugged. "Why should I be in any trouble? I'm just an honest trader."
"Bullshit!" The colonel slapped a thick hand on the desktop, making a data pad jump. "Your ship has two holes in it, and something like fifty separate laser scorches. How do you think you can explain that?"
Fifty scorch marks? Ouch. Oh, my poor ship. With a sad shake of his head, Chan said, "Pirates. They attacked us a day and a half ago. We barely escaped with our lives."
A derisive twist of the man's lip showed Chan what the colonel thought of that story. "You flew into Mercury space without a transponder on," the colonel said. "Why was that, if you're an honest trader?"
Chan sighed. "Remember those pirates I mentioned? We turned the transponder off to hide from them. They put two holes in our ship, after all. And something like fifty laser scorches." He leaned back in his chair and watched blood fill the colonel's face.
"We're going over your ship right now with some of the best scanning equipment in the solar system. We're going to find your contraband."
Chan said nothing, just smiled.
The interrogation dragged on for another hour, the colonel asking him the same questions over and over. Where was he coming from? What was his cargo? Where did he encounter the pirates? How many ships? How long was the battle? How did he escape?
It was standard interrogation technique, Chan knew. The idea was to give him every opportunity to trip himself up, get a detail wrong, or get caught floundering. He was prepared, though. The three of them had agreed on the bare bones of a story. One pirate ship, modeled after the Myrmidon, the details of the battle taken directly from the skirmish with the Orbital Guard cutter. The exact details would differ among the three of them, but that was to be expected from honest witnesses. It was when every detail matched that you knew people were lying.
Aside from that, he told the truth. Even the lies had as much truth in them as possible, and O'Rourke struggled in vain to find a hole in Chan's story. He ranted, he bullied, he threatened, and through it all Chan calmly repeated his answers and ignored the colonel's tirades.
When the colonel asked him for the fifth time to tell the story of the pirate attack, Chan rebelled in the only way he could. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. For ten long minutes he ignored the colonel while the man blustered and shouted. Finally the colonel said, "Fine. Have it your way. Take him back to his cell."
The next interrogation came four hours later. The colonel had his collar unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, and his hair stood up in sweaty clumps. He ran Chan through the same questions. Chan answered calmly and politely, ignoring the man's barbs and veiled insults. When he'd answered every question twice, Chan again leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Twenty minutes later he was back in his cell.
He was fed, and allowed to visit a bathroom, and interrogated one more time. And then, nine and a half hours after touching down on Mercury, Chan, Joss, and Liz were released.
"This way."
Joss looked up from her bunk and suppressed the urge to burst into tears. Not that the uniformed thug in the doorway would care, but some arbitrary spark of pride made her determined not to show weakness in front of him. She stared up at him for as long as she dared, then heaved herself up off of her bunk.
"Take your vac suit," he said. When she stared at him in confusion he added, "You're free to go."
She followed him down the hall as he released Liz and Chan. He led them down an empty corridor to the airlock they had entered through, nine or ten hours before. "Your ship is grounded," he said, "pending further investigation. But you're free to go on board, or enter the city."
"Thank you," said Joss as the hatch to the lock slid open.
"Don't thank that fascist clown," Liz snapped. "If you want to express yourself, I can find you a blunt instrument."
Joss sighed. Liz could always be counted on to alienate or antagonize a potential ally.
They suited up, cycled the lock, and plodded across the landing area to the Raven. Inside they found Rhett reorganizing the galley. The ship was a shambles, with detritus strewn across the deck plates. Tools littered the corridor, and an upside-down toolbox blocked the hatch to the engine room. Even the first aid kit had been dumped out.
Joss stared around at the devastation and felt tears prick at her eyes. One more stress was simply too much after the day she'd had. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply until the lump in her throat receded. As soon as I'm alone, I'm going to have a good cry.
"Those creeps," said Liz. "We should go back in there and teach them some manners."
Joss sighed and looked at Chan. "I know this needs to be cleaned up, but I don't think I can face it right now."
He nodded and gave her a smile. "I completely agree. I don't know about you, but I could use a stiff drink." His stomach rumbled, and he grinned. "A bite to eat, too."
Joss looked at Rhett. "How are you doing? Did they mistreat you?"
"I am well," the robot replied. "I have been interrogated, and they did a direct scan of my memory."
Joss stiffened. "Uh-oh."
"I was able to provide them with a prepared file," Rhett reassured her. "It appears I spent the entire voyage from Venus in a cabin, deactivated."
"You can do that?" Joss shook her head. "Well, good job."
"Thank you, Joss."
Chan said, "Are you interested in going into the city?"
The robot shook his golden head. "No, thank you, Captain. I would prefer to stay here and get the ship in order."
"It hardly seems fair that you work while we goof off," Chan objected.
"I appreciate your concern, Captain. However, it is unnecessary."
"All right, then." Chan headed for his cabin. "I've heard the hotel at the top of the pyramid is fabulous. I'm staying there tonight. Meet me in five minutes?"
Joss nodded and headed for her own cabin to pack a bag.
After hours being grilled by Planetary Security it felt surreal to walk at last into the spaceport terminal building and be greeted by a banner reading "Welcome to Mercury." The three of them left their vac suits and helmets in lockers and walked one at a time through an automated customs arch. There was no system-wide form of ID, so Joss filled in a short questionnaire, then placed her hand in a scanner. She hated giving out biometric data, but the cops had already scanned her hands and retina, so she decided there was little further harm. And she refused to spend the night on the ship.
On the far side of the arch she found herself in an open concourse with information screens and posters on the walls. A scruffy-looking teenage boy sat at the base of one wall, scrambling to his feet as soon as he saw her.
"Hello, lady. Welcome to Mercury. Can I take your bag?"
Her little overnight bag weighed practically nothing, and she shook her head.
"I can give you a tour of the city. It's a very exciting place. Are you looking for a hotel? The Sunshine is very nice. Good rates, too." His gaze shifted behind her. "Hello, lady. Welcome to Mercury. Can I take your bag?"
"Beat it," Liz said.
He returned his attention to Joss, unfazed. "You looking for a restaurant? I know a great place real near here. Fresh vegetables, never frozen! And beef straight from Earth. Oh, hello, sir. Welcome to Mercury. Can I take your bag?"
"Look, kid," said Liz, "I've been wanting to punch someone all day, and you're the only one here. You need to take a hike. This is the last time I'm going to ask nicely."
"Actually," said Joss, "would you mind carrying my bag?" He darted forward and snatched it from her hand, and she said, "Tell me about this hotel."
"Oh, it's real nice. You'll like it."
Joss walked behind him, ignoring the looks Liz was giving her. "Is it the hotel in the pyramid?"
"Oh, no. It's much nicer. Right this way."
"I'd really like to go to the hotel in the pyramid," Joss said. "I want to see the view."
The boy looked back, scowling. "That's a Telly hotel. You'll like the Sunshine better. It's independent."
"The pyramid," Joss said firmly, and his shoulders slumped.
"Okay. Right this way." He led them to a set of sliding doors in one wall. "We'll take a buzz cart over to the city. You'll love these. Don't worry, they're totally free."
Buzz carts proved to be little electric trams with seating for eight plus room for luggage. Sliding doors gave them access to the enclosed body of the cart. They sat and watched through the cart's windows as it unsealed from the terminal building and rolled across the gray-brown sands of Mercury.
They reached the city walls quickly, moving through an L-shaped gap in the wall, and docked at a squat gold building with blank walls. The boy led the way inside, still clutching Joss's overnight bag. "My name's Pacer," he said over his shoulder. "Whatever you need in Dawn City, you just let Pacer know. I'm not in the main city directory, but do a search for P-A-C-E-R and you'll find me."
The inside of the building was brightly lit by a series of small windows set high on the walls. Pamphlets and flickering monitors lined two walls, showing advertisements for restaurants and shops. Pacer waved a dismissive hand. "Ignore all that junk. It's all Telly stuff. Indie places are much better."
"Telly?" said Joss. "What's 'Telly stuff?'"
"Telemachus." The disgusted expression on his face showed what Pacer thought of the corporation. "They run most of the city. And they want to run it all. People like me who don't want to work for them would starve if they had their way. It's not like I can afford a ticket off this rock. So I always tell people to support the indies." He shifted Joss's bag to his other hand. "Besides, the indies are better. Not so stuffy. They don't take your data and store it forever. They don't blackball you if you mouth off to somebody. And they don't have so many rules."
A panel lit up on the wall as they passed. "Welcome to Dawn City," said a smooth electronic voice. "Can I help you find a destination?" The panel showed a map of the city, with a green dot indicating their location.
"What's this?" Liz said suspiciously. "Maybe we don't need the kid at all."
"Sure you do," Pacer said. "That thing's only good if you like machines spying on you. Besides, it doesn’t work. Watch this." He strode up to the panel and said, "We want to go to the Hotel Caduceus."
"Follow the green arrows on the corridor walls," the voice said. "Would you like to enquire about availability, or make a reservation?"
"No. Shut up."
A green arrow appeared on the panel, pointing down the corridor. They walked along, and another arrow appeared a few meters farther down the hall.
"It seems to be working fine," Liz said.
"Wait and see," Pacer replied.
"Is it far to the hotel?" Joss asked.
"Maybe a klick. We're practically there." He gestured. "Right this way. We have to go up some stairs." He led them down a short corridor and up a flight of stairs.
The corridor at the top of the stairs had steelglass plates in the ceiling, and she could see the sky, black and starless. Smaller windows on the sides of the corridor let in strips of brilliant sunlight. She could see a street below. They were in an elevated walkway with a roadway underneath.
"The whole city's designed for vehicles that go outside, and people tha
t walk inside," Pacer said. "But the vehicles get priority. So if you want to stay inside, you have to go up and down a lot of stairs. Half the connector tunnels are in the air, and half are underground." He pointed. "See that panel in the road there? That's to let light into an underground tunnel."
They continued on, reaching a broad corridor lined with shops and tiny restaurants. Now that she knew what to look for, Joss could tell the corporate establishments from the "indie" places at a glance, and the difference was striking. The corporate places were branded, with gold signs or gold trim along the walls. The staff invariably wore uniforms, from gold blazers in the upscale shops to dark blouses with gold epaulettes in the cheaper stores. The restaurant staff wore gold smocks and black trousers.
The indie places, as if in reaction, were riotous explosions of color. Every store and restaurant was different, but they were unified by their brightness. Reds, blues, greens, every color imaginable was represented.
Except gold.
The staff, likewise, tended to wear bright colors. There were flamboyant hairstyles in some of the indie places, too. Joss peered into doorways and caught flashes of tattoos and metal body art. The corporate staff looked dowdy and uptight by comparison.
"There's no more arrows," said Liz.
"Nope." Pacer turned to her with a smirk. "Check this out." He pointed to a little strip of tiled wall between two stores. One tile was chipped and broken. Pacer tapped the center of the broken area. "There used to be a camera here. Sons of the Dawn smashed it." He beamed. "They do that a lot."
"Sons of the Dawn?" said Joss.
"They're anarchists." Pacer was as proud as if he'd invented the term. "They don't like cameras and stuff. So they rip 'em right out of the wall." He indicated a little blank screen just below the broken tile. "No cameras, no arrows. If they can't see you, they can't give you directions."
"Another nefarious scheme thwarted," Liz muttered.
"It's about privacy and stuff," the boy protested, and Liz waved a placatory hand.
