by Strong, Ray
Cookie looked at his cards and frowned. “Yeah, I know. But I can hope,” he said. “They look good together.” He sighed and flipped his hole cards face up on the table. “Fold.”
“She’s gonna break his heart,” Socket said.
“That’s what hearts are for,” he said.
Socket nodded and threw a few more chips onto the stack.
“Jump in ten minutes,” they heard on the intercom.
Cookie took the same chips from John’s pile without looking at John’s cards. “He calls.”
Socket turned over her cards to show two pair, jacks over tens. Cookie turned over John’s cards to expose three fours, the winning hand.
“Damn. You can’t bluff a sleeping man,” she said.
Cookie pushed the stack over onto John’s pile, and Socket rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.
“He’s just a lucky guy,” Cookie said. “Both of them are.”
“How can you say that? She lost her ship and her family, and John’s kids don’t have a mom.”
“It’s their hearts, lass,” he said.
Socket nodded and looked at Cookie and smiled.
***
The nondescript man surprised the two security guards when he entered their office.
“Hey, bozo,” said a guard with a black eye and a bandage on his nose. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”
“I see that you took the antidote in time, Bob,” the nondescript man said.
Bob lost his smirk. “Yeah, so what’s it to you?”
“Yes, what is it to me,” the nondescript man said with a smile. “You failed. The attempt at the café was clumsy. Did you know there was a combat marine at that table?” he asked and pulled out the fleschette pistol from the holster in the small of his back.
“Uh-huh,” Bob said. “I didn’t see you trying to help.”
“You were instructed to contact me first.”
Bob’s partner elbowed him to silence.
The nondescript man turned around to lock the door. He touched a button on his link, and the security console went dark. Bob lunged for the nondescript man but staggered backward and fell on his back, gasping for breath, a circular pattern of red dots flowed together on his chest. Bob’s partner hit the red security-breach alarm button repeatedly, but it did nothing. He then ran for the backdoor and found it locked.
“That will not help,” the nondescript man said. He proceeded with his task, knowing that no one outside the security office would hear the screams of the watchers.
Chapter 7 Wolf Station, Wolf 359 System
Wolf Station—Inbound
Meriel checked her messages inbound to the Wolf system after synch with the comm beacon, hoping to hear from her friends and worried about Harry’s birthday party, which would take place later that day.
From Harry: I’m here. The crew kids are ready to go. Call us when you’re on your way.
LU!
Yikes, I forgot to ask how many kids Harry invited. I hope they don’t empty the bank account. This was all on the Princess corporate account, of course. That’s what Meriel called her savings account. It was minimal by any standard, but she needed to do this for Harry.
From Anita: My ship docked at mining asteroid X44t…
Right, just a few hours away.
…and I took a shuttle to Enterprise. Just docked. I hope I didn’t miss Harry’s party. Give me a call, and we can pick him up. A
What a wonderful surprise! Meriel thought. Harry will be thrilled.
A text from Nick interrupted Meriel’s musing about the party. She leaned back to read it on her visor.
m, if you are alive to read this, you’ve not attempted to read the encrypted files, and your ship has not jumped into a star. that’s good. reply to confirm you’re still breathing.
virus is mil-tech. very aggressive. your bracelet link is a zombie, and i mulched it. the next time you turned it on, it would have taken over whatever computing power it could command to communicate with its handler, whoever that is. virus will continue replicating until it gets a signal from the handler, and then it will die. but until then, its first priority is to do the virus’s bidding, whatever that is.
ok, so what’s on the manifest? i copied it here, by hand, thank you very much—text only, no code, no metadata, and without the virus. maybe you can figure it out. the item that triggered the virus is on the bottom of the list.
m, this is a military id code by its structure. that xe prefix is mil-spec r&d. to know more, you need r&d need-to-know clearance, likely secret at some level. i know this is not your business, but it is mine. i would strongly advise you not to search for these numbers, as they may trigger unwanted attention. when I write “strongly advise,” i mean do not do this unless you are ready to give up your life or your freedom. i am not ready to do either just yet and therefore decline this adventure.
Well, Nick’s being dramatic, she thought.
if you are in the mood, please tell me who decided to add mil r&d to your cargo.
oh, and attached another vid i think you’ll like. you told me about what happened that day.
Meriel looked at the IDs from the manifest and noted the xeM446 prefix, but caution stopped her from querying while on the Tiger.
The icon for the attached vid showed a picture of Elizabeth and Meriel, each snuggled into one of their father’s arms. Meriel clicked on the icon to play and turned up the volume to hear his snoring.
***
When Elizabeth had just turned nine, she had finally grown tall enough, and Meriel and Tommy Spurell took her to the dinosaur park simulator. It was all fun, and they kept a running score for evading the carnivores—surviving even their allotted half hour was a challenge. They had to make weapons and a first-aid kit from raw materials scattered throughout the simulator so they could protect or save themselves. They did not know it yet, but people could “die” in the game by getting eaten, injured severely, or poisoned by snakes or bugs. They would not really die, of course, but the game would eject them. She and Tommy had not died before. They were too fast and stupid to get caught, so they did not know.
That day with Liz, a raptor family chased them, and Liz could not find a tree to climb fast enough. She froze. Tommy and Meriel jumped in front to help her, and the raptors got all three them. The game ejected them, but the ejection point dropped them away from where their parents were waiting. Meriel thought she knew how to get back but got them lost instead. Park security found them and took them to the lost and found, exhausted. Liz just held her hand and did not let go.
Tommy thought it was all a great adventure, but Meriel panicked that they might cause the ship to miss its departure window. That could mean penalties for late arrival and destroy their margins, maybe even delay the entire circuit.
In the lost and found, kids from white-zone made fun of them, especially Liz because she was small. Tommy was ready to defend her, but Liz punched one of the bullies in the nose and made him cry. Just then, Dad arrived to pick them up. He saw Liz standing with her fists on her hips and glaring at the bullies, and Meriel and Tommy squared off on each flank.
Dad had smiled broadly, never saying a word about them getting lost, and took them for ice cream with the other kids as though nothing had happened. But Mom’s eyes were red and puffy.
Meriel’s father never left them that day. The early ejection from the dino-simulator gave them lots of time so that the Princess was not at risk of missing her departure window.
After dropping off Tommy, they went to their parent’s cabin, and Meriel and Elizabeth told them every detail of their exciting day. There, they fell asleep in their father’s arms.
Watching the vid, Meriel knew why she always felt peaceful when she heard a man snoring.
Wolf Station—On Station
Wolf was a small station, efficient and wealthy but with limited dockage, which caused the Tiger to dock late and Meriel to worry about Harry’s party. She had prepaid for the party, so they’d
not lose the reservation, but Harry’s ship and Anita’s shuttle had rigid departure times.
Meriel signed out and ran to the restroom on the docks where she quickly changed into the clothing of a station cabbie. She rented a cargo cart and paid cash under a phony name. Care was needed now—seeing any of the kids from the Princess was a violation of the court order and could land Meriel in jail. It also could put the kids in danger of whatever had hit them on the Princess. Harry’s fosters were OK with the contact, but they needed to be discreet.
She had no time to shop for a new link, and her visor was inappropriate for a cabbie, so she took Nick’s loaner link. Her pulse raced, and shimmering silver stars appeared in front of her, causing her to pull over. God, calm down, she thought. Breathe or you’ll pass out. Wouldn’t Ferrell love that, proof of blackouts.
When her head cleared, she picked up Anita, and after some hugs, they went to pick up Harry at the TanaMaru’s dock. Harry was there waiting with some of his shipmates. When he saw the cart pull up, he gathered his mates and walked toward the cart, not recognizing either of them. Halfway to the cart, he stopped and stared wide-eyed. Then he ran to the cart and jumped in to hug Anita. They held hands and talked until they reached the play area in white-zone.
At the play area, the other kids jumped from the cart before Meriel came to a complete stop. They all ran to the simulators while Harry dragged Anita to a bench. Meriel sat overlooking the play area and watched them just talking to each other. Look at that, she thought. Even with all the amusements so close at hand, time with each other is what they want most.
While Meriel watched the kids, one of the bigger boys tried to nudge Harry to the side and dominate Anita’s attention. Meriel signaled Anita, who excused herself, and Harry went to play with the other kids. The annoying boy glared at Meriel as Anita walked over to her, but when Anita looked back to Harry, the fellow changed his expression to a charming smile. Snake, Meriel thought.
As Anita approached, Meriel used sign language to ask, “Who’s the muscle?” Sign had been their private language since childhood on the Princess, and all of the kids still used it to mock adults or to hold private conversations. No one else signed anymore; no one needed to. Implants, cochlear or cortex, were common from childhood on—Harry got his when he was nine. Other than each other, sign was the single thing they took with them from the Princess. It belonged to them alone and bound them together.
“He’s why they kicked me off the TanaMaru,” Anita signed in reply, frowning.
“So that’s him,” Meriel signed. This toad had caused the problems that forced Anita and Harry apart. Anita was barely fourteen when this guy, the captain’s son, messed with her, and she hurt him badly. The ship would not renew her contract and took her from her little brother, Harry.
“Want me to talk to him?” Meriel signed.
“No thanks, that would only make it worse for Harry,” Anita said aloud and looked back at Harry.
Meriel noticed that Anita was covering her hands and clenching her fists in her lap. She took one of Anita’s hands in hers and opened her fist to see fingernails bitten to the quick. Anita quickly drew her hand back and looked down.
“Worried, hon?” Meriel asked.
Anita nodded. “Harry’s ship almost didn’t make it.”
“What happened?”
“They got behind on the maintenance, and the TanaMaru broke down near Gliese 6. They couldn’t get a loan from the league.”
“Why not?”
“Couldn’t prove they could pay it off, too much overhead.”
“Sounds fixable,” Meriel said.
Anita shook her head. “They’ve got too many kids.”
“I thought they were training them.”
“Not well enough,” Anita said. “Other ships wouldn’t take them. They’re dead wood, including the muscle, but he’s the captain’s son.”
Kids filled the big family ships like the TanaMaru because family ships allowed parents to escape the strict population controls on all habitats. On family ships, you could have as many kids as you wanted as long as you could feed them and stay one jump ahead of the social workers. But ships that did not control their populations ended up running the risky routes or taking on too much debt trying to support everyone. Risky routes put the lives of everyone onboard in danger. Too much debt pulled your ship to the auction block and your crew—your family—to the mining colonies like the naive and foolish.
“But they’re flying now.”
Anita nodded. “The troopers drafted the seniors as cadets, but the ship is still running close to failure.”
“I didn’t know his ship was in trouble, Anni. Good you got off when you did.”
“Not so good with Harry still stuck there,” Anita said. She smiled at Meriel and patted her hand. “Thanks, M. I’ve really got no one to talk to.” She looked back over to the play area. “I’ll take care of the muscle.”
Anita walked over to a group of older boys. A few minutes later, one of those boys had the bully up against the wall for a “talking to,” and Anita returned safely to sit with Harry.
She’s learning, Meriel thought and smiled. She took a serving of ice cream and cake and sat by herself again to avoid the security camera. Then she checked her link for messages.
Anita and Harry brought birthday cake and sat with her while a crewmate snapped vids of them together with Anita’s link.
“Happy birthday, kid,” Meriel said, and Harry jumped into her arms and kissed her.
“Show M the present from Nick,” Anita said, turning to Meriel. “It was waiting at the dock when Harry’s ship arrived.”
Harry put a tiny holo cube on the table. The holo would only be in focus within a few feet, so Meriel did not worry about passersby. Harry tapped the corner, and a hologram popped up of Harry and Anita with their parents on the Princess. Anita wore a dress and beamed at little Harry, who ran around her while their parents sat close by. Harry and Anita watched the holo now with big smiles.
“That was Harry’s second birthday,” Meriel said. Nick must have found it on my sim-chip.
Anita nodded. “I remember.”
That week, the Princess had stopped near Sirius for a layover, and Uncle Ed had held a movie marathon. One of the vids was an adventure movie that her father liked—God knew how old it was—about a young princess who rediscovered her home in a land that floated in the sky. The kids converted the mess hall into a castle and acted out every scene with the adults playing the roles of enormous robots. Her father told her that they’d named their ship after the heroine of the story. No one told the kids that the nearby asteroids were embroiled in an immigration war, and the Princess had to stay close to the station for safety.
“Harry’s never seen our folks before, M,” Anita said wiping tears from her eyes. “Remember, Harry, this is just between us. Don’t show this to anybody.”
“Sure, Sis.”
“Hey, kid, I saw your new qualification,” Meriel said. “Good work. This is from all of us in your future crew.” She handed Harry a small box that he immediately tore to shreds. Inside lay two silver collar pins signifying his logistics-2 qualification and a small service ribbon for his formal uniform. Harry hugged her again, and Meriel melted into it.
“You OK now?” she signed.
“Sure, M,” Harry signed in reply. “They’re OK to me. I just miss everyone so much, especially my big sister.” Anita leaned over and hugged him.
“We’ll be together, Harry,” Anita said. “It will just take some time.” She bit her lip and looked at Meriel. “M, maybe you can get us on the same ship.”
“I’m trying, hon,” Meriel said. “I’m trying. Your fosters don’t want to leave the TanaMaru, and I’d never put you back there, ever. I’m just glad that Harry is a youngster. I’ll get him off as soon as I can.”
“Say, girl,” Meriel continued. “You’re still in with your fosters, right? Do you think they’d crew with us when we get the Princess back?”
>
Anita shrugged but smiled at the idea. “I think they’d want to be near us, yeah.”
“When we get our ship back, we’ll need skilled adults we trust to fill our roster, and who better than people who love us. Is that something you’d be OK with?” Meriel asked, and both siblings nodded.
She looked at her watch. “Time’s up, kids. Gather your crew, Harry.”
Meriel thought this was too perfect and took a party favor as a reminder. Harry rounded up his shipmates, and they all got into the cargo cart and drove back to the TanaMaru. His crewmates boarded, but Harry would not let go of Anita’s hand.
“It’s OK, M,” Anita said. “I’m going to say hi to my old foster folks. I can find my way back to the shuttle.”
“Thanks, M,” Harry said. “This was my best birthday ever.” Harry kissed Meriel again and dissolved her fears with a hug.
***
Meriel went to a public kiosk to search for the cargo ID numbers Nick had provided but then thought better of it. Remembering his warning that it might send an alarm, she bought used clothing, a metal cosmetics case, and two old portables at a salvage store, and changed her clothes and hair. Carefully avoiding the security cameras, she walked back to white-zone and a coffee shop where the station folk gathered. She paid for her coffee with cash and sat at a corner table. As extra precautions, she covered the built-in camera with the sticker from her coffee and put her loaner link in the metal cosmetics case.
She keyed in the number “M446,” and the search returned millions of hits and counting. She tried “Mil M446,” which still returned thousands of hits. She keyed in a longer part of the number, and the laptop displayed “research…communications, wide-field disruption with narrow-band tunneling…read more here.” She needed to know more and clicked the link, and the screen returned with a pop-up.
Please wait just a moment while we retrieve your data.
