Lyssa's Dream - A Hard Science Fiction AI Adventure (The Sentience Wars - Origins Book 1)
Page 11
“Whatever he’s having.”
The soldier shook his head. “Trust me, you don’t want that. You want beef? How about a steak? You’ve been out a long time.”
The thought of having a steak without the kids made Andy feel a little guilty. But they had already gotten their choices of a take-out menu back at the apartment Starl had provided. Pizza for Tim and skewers for Cara.
“That sounds good,” Andy said. “Where’s the club? I might remember it.”
“It’s a new place. The boss had it built out of an old warehouse back near the repair docks. Makes for easy access for anybody who wants to drop in and drop out. It’s a music club, really fresh stuff.”
They had just stepped into the main flow of foot traffic through the shopping district when Andy felt the nose of a pistol jabbed hard into the small of his back. He turned his head to get a look at his attacker and was met by a sharp hiss. “Keep your eyes looking ahead or I’ll—”
Karcher’s pistol cracked twice and the pressure left Andy’s back. He turned to find a middle-aged man lying on the floor clutching his stomach, blood leaking between his fingers. He looked no different from any other shopper.
“A mugging?” Andy asked. “This looked like a nice area.”
“Welcome to Cruithne,” Karcher said, holstering his pistol inside his jacket.
“Is that all it was?”
The soldier shrugged. “Probably. Who cares? He saw us walk out of the suit shop and only a certain type of client goes in there. He should have known better.”
Andy looked around. The flow of shoppers had split cleanly around them, no one paying them any special attention.
“Do we need to worry about security?” he asked.
“Nope.” Karcher squatted down next to the mugger’s wheezing face. “Who do you work for?”
The man blew out a wet breath. “Nobody.”
“Nobody. You know you might live with the two shots I gave you. I put one in your brain and you’re not getting out of this. Who sent you?”
“Zanda. He figures this guy can carry the AI.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Karcher said. In a smooth motion, he drew his pistol and shot him in the temple. The blast caused the tile under his head to crack.
Andy looked around anxiously, expecting someone to shout or scream, but the crowd continued on as though nothing noteworthy had occured. He couldn’t hide the shock on his face as Karcher stood, holstering his pistol a second time. He straightened his jacket.
“Calm down,” Karcher said. “The only mistake you can make on Cruithne is wasting the Security Admin’s time. They’ll replay the surveillance and see what happened. This guy was a fool. He probably doesn’t even work for Zanda and was just trying to catch a lucky break.” He shook his head. “But if that’s true, it means the Havenots can’t keep their mouths shut.”
“If they found us here, they know where the kids are,” Andy said. “I need to go back to the apartment.”
Karcher held up a hand. “We’ve got more security on that apartment than Starl has right now. Trust me, they’re safe.”
“I don’t know you.”
“True enough, but we want something from you, right? So, it doesn’t figure that we’d let you or your kids get hurt, not while you’re on Cruithne anyway.”
Andy frowned, worry about the kids battling the need to complete this deal. The sooner they were off Cruithne Station, the better.
“All right,” he said.
Karcher gave him a fake grin, his eyes still dead. “Good. Now let’s get moving. I’m really hungry for that steak.”
They took the maglev back across Cruithne’s ring. Andy recognized a few of the areas flowing by from the first trip. It was later now, past midnight local time, and the corridors were mostly empty except for a few stumbling couples and maintenance workers. Andy realized how tired he was and stifled a yawn.
“Not yet,” Karcher warned. “Give the boss a couple hours and then I’ll take you back to your apartment. You can sleep as late as you want.”
“You obviously don’t have kids.”
Karcher shrugged. “Nope.”
Andy grew accustomed to the feel of the new suit and shoes as he followed Karcher though the warren of corridors until they finally stopped in front of a scarred door that looked like all the rest. It slid open as they reached it and a thick man in a black suit stared at Karcher for a second before turning his gaze to Andy. He nodded and stepped out of the doorway.
As they stepped into the vestibule, an interior door slid open, allowing blasts of music and flashing lights to fill the tiny space. Andy groaned inwardly and did his best to stand straight.
They walked out onto a landing that looked over the club. It was a big space, with tables around the walls and a multi-level dance floor in the middle. Stairs led from the landing down to the various sections of the club. A massive bar stood on the opposite side of the space, with a small army of bartenders serving the crowd. The music sounded like a warning klaxon set to droning percussion that made Andy feel like his heart was going to stop.
Unable to communicate verbally over the noise, Karcher told him over the Link,
Without waiting for Andy’s response, Karcher turned to walk down the wide steps to the dance floor.
Chapter Sixteen
STELLAR DATE: 08.26.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Cantil Park Housing Project
REGION: Cruithne Station, Terran Hegemony
Cara woke to the sound of the front door sliding open. Her first thought was to wait with her eyes closed so she wouldn’t make Dad think she’d been worried. She had nearly drifted back to sleep, when a crash came from the main room. It was followed by a curse that didn’t come from her father, and Cara snapped fully awake.
She waited, heart hammering, listening to Tim breathing lightly in the other bed, as footsteps moved around the main room. A light came on, barely reaching the open door of their bedroom. Cara gathered her legs under her and closed her eyes just enough so she could still see through her eyelashes. Whoever came through the door, if they leaned over her, she was going to kick them in the face.
There was another stumbling sound and then someone blocked the light. In another two steps, Dr. Jickson stood in the doorway. The light was behind him, so his face was dark but she immediately recognized his dumpy frame and wispy blond hair. He listed to one side before placing a hand on the door frame.
He waved at the wall switch and the room filled with light.
Cara screamed. When all her breath was gone, she sucked more air and screamed again. Her voice was like shattering glass.
“Please,” Jickson shouted. He put his hands over his ears and leaned heavily against the wall. “Please, I’m here to help you. Stop screaming.”
“What’s going on?” Tim asked. He sat in his bed, blinking sleepily.
Cara cut-off in the middle of her third scream and squinted at Jickson. His eyes were sunk in dark circles. He looked overly tired, as if he had been fighting a headache for a week. Cara knew what headaches looked like. Her mom’s eyes had looked the same when she’d stayed in bed for days, in constant pain.
“What do you want?” Cara demanded. “I have a pulse pistol. My dad gave it to me. I’m a good shot with it and I’ll blow your head off.”
Jickson swallowed and wiped his forehead, then held up his hands with his palms out. “Please. I’m not here to hurt you. I only want to talk to you.”
“I think he’s drunk,” Tim said too loud
ly. “Yeah, I think he’s on something.”
“What do you know about that?” Cara said.
“It’s in videos all the time. He looks just like a drunk person. Or maybe he took pills.”
Jickson pointed at the edge of Cara’s bed. “I’m going to sit there. Please don’t yell anymore. Or shoot me. Please don’t shoot me.”
“Stop saying ‘please’ if you don’t mean it,” Cara said.
Jickson gave a weak laugh. “Oh, I mean it.” He took a shambling step and sat down heavily on the corner of Cara’s bed. She scooted up against the wall to get away from him, unable to pull her covers up now that he was holding them in place.
“How did you get in here?” Cara demanded. “I thought we had all kinds of security watching us.”
Jickson waved a hand. “I’m part of—the security,” he said. “I can see you just like Karcher or Petral. Any of them.”
The doctor took a deep breath and coughed wetly.
Cara frowned, wondering if he wasn’t drunk but sick. He had turned so she could see half his face and he was flushed with beads of sweat on his forehead.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
“I’m at the end of a path I started a long time ago. It’s catching up with me.” He coughed. “You don’t think things will catch up with you and then they do, and it’s obvious it was going to happen the whole time. Not that I would do anything differently. But here I am. Paying for it.”
“For what?” Tim said. “You don’t make any sense.”
Jickson pointed at Tim with a weak movement of his hand. “I like you, Tim. Well, I like both of you. I used to work with kids your age quite frequently. I think I told you that. Or I told your father. I did a lot of work with kids. Some of it wasn’t—good work. It’s why I’m here now.”
He trailed off, staring at the floor. For a second, Cara thought he was going to topple over. She considered dashing through the open door for the panel next to the entrance where she could call someone. Did Cruithne have security? Wasn’t this place full of pirates and smugglers like Dad had said? She could call Dad, at least.
“I’ve done terrible things,” Jickson said, picking his head up. “I did terrible things to those children. I’m paying for it now, Tim. Cara. I’m paying for it. They found me and they know you’re here. I think the only thing that’s stopping them is that they don’t want to draw attention to any of this. At least I did one smart thing by coming here.”
“What are you talking about?” Cara said.
“Did your father tell you what he’s going to do for Starl? Has he told you anything about it?”
“He’s going to transport someone for him. Or maybe it was cargo but I heard you call it she, kind of like you were talking about a dog. We transport things. That’s what we do.”
Jickson chuckled painfully. “Oh, she’s not a dog. You’re transporting something, yes. This is a special— She’s special and there are people who will want to get her. Do you understand what I mean?”
“Pirates?” Tim asked, sounding excited by the idea.
“People from a place called Heartbridge. If you hear that name, it’s danger. Do you understand? If you hear that name, you run.”
Jickson reached into his jacket and took out a silver flask. Untwisting the cap, he took a long drink. When he was finished, he held the flask in front of him like he didn’t remember how it had gotten there, then carefully resealed the cap and put it back inside his jacket. His hands trembled.
“You are drunk,” Cara said. “You’re not sick.”
“It’s to hold off the effects. It helps a little. Polonium. I don’t know when they slipped it to me but it’s doing its work. I won’t be here much longer.”
“What did Heartbridge do?” Cara asked.
“I stole her from them,” Jickson said, not answering the question. A dreamy note came into his voice, a little bit of pride. “I got her away and she’s sleeping now. But we have to keep running.” He turned to meet Cara’s gaze and his eyes were bloodshot and weepy. “I wanted to take her all the way but I’m not going to make it.” He coughed. “Listen. This is important. You need to know that if she can’t be stopped, if she reverts, there’s a code sequence. Your father won’t be in a position to do anything about it, so it has to be you.”
“We’re just kids,” Tim said.
“I wish you could stay that way.” He spluttered more coughs, pushing his fist hard against his lips. His fingers were bloody when he pulled them back. Jickson blinked with a woeful expression and wiped his hand on his chest, leaving pink streaks on his shirt.
Reaching into his jacket again, he took out a small book that was almost the same shape as the flask. Its covers and binding looked like red leather. He placed it on the bed near Cara’s feet.
Even though it was upside down, she read the title: Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson.
“She loves those,” Jickson said. “She loved them from when she was your age.” He nodded toward Tim. “That’s when I first met her.”
“Who are you talking about?” Tim said.
Jickson tapped the cover of the book with a trembling index finger. “She has favorites but it won’t have to be any certain poem. She’ll respond to any of them. She knows them all.”
Jickson stared at the book for a long moment, then drew another wet breath and stifled a cough. He pushed himself to his feet. He leaned so far away from the bed that Cara thought he would topple over—but then he righted himself and squared his shoulders.
“I’m glad it was you,” Jickson said. “I think she’ll be happy with you.” He frowned suddenly, asking, “How many days have you been on Cruithne?”
“We’ve been here two days,” Cara said. “Dad says we have eight more to go.”
Jickson nodded. “I don’t think I’ll see you again. I might see your dad. If she ever asks about me, tell her I’m sorry. When I understood what I was doing was evil, I tried to change. I don’t know if that’s enough.”
Coughing, he took small steps through the door. Cara jumped off her bed to follow him as he moved down the hallway into the main room, using the wall for support. He left pink smears as he walked. Tim followed a few steps behind Cara.
At the front door, he did something to the access panel using two fingers. “It won’t show that I was here,” he told Cara. “It’s all right if you tell your dad. Secrets aren’t good for any family but maybe wait a while until you see how things are working out. Maybe everything will be fine.” The front door slid open and he turned back to Tim and Cara, giving them a small wave.
“Goodbye,” Jickson said, stepping through. The door slid closed behind him.
They stood for a minute staring at the door. Cara didn’t know what to say.
“Are you going to read the book?” Tim said. He held it out for her to take.
“You touched it? What if it has his blood on it?”
Tim shrugged. “It doesn’t. It’s not a full book. Most of the pages only have a few words on them.”
“It’s poetry, goofball. Ancient stuff.”
“I like books,” Tim said, holding it at a different angle so he could look down the spine. “How do you think they make these?”
“Like they make anything else.”
“Should we tell Dad? Does Dad know about Heartbridge?”
“I’ve never heard him say that name before,” Cara said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it anywhere.”
“We could look it up on the Link,” Tim said.
Cara shook her head. “Not on this panel. Dad can look at all the searches.”
“Should we call somebody about Dr. Jickson? He looked pretty sick.”
Cara’s first impulse was to say yes. Her gaze went to the access panel next to the door, which also allowed emergency calls out. Again, she wondered just who she would call and what kind of attention that might bring. Dad needed their help now, not extra trouble.
She shook her head. “Dr. Jickson can take care
of himself. We shouldn’t do anything to bring more people around. The sooner we get away from Cruithne, the safer we’ll be. I don’t think Dad ever wanted to come here, even when we were on Kalyke. He looked really angry about the flight plan.”
“Yeah,” Tim said.
Cara understood that her dad had tried to shield them from the reality of their situation. She had figured out that he’d been on the verge of selling Sunny Skies. She wished he would talk to them, or at least her, about the trouble whirling around inside his head. It was plain to see on his face—she was amazed Tim hadn’t brought it up. Cara knew Mom wasn’t coming back, whether they still had the ship or not. In a way, she seemed to accept the fact more than her dad ever could.
“Let me have that,” she said.
“Will you read it to me?” Tim asked.
Cara gave him a surprised look. “Really?”
“Don’t you want to know what it’s about?” He held the book out again and she took it this time. It was heavier than she’d expected, the pages nearly silicon-thin. The book felt important in her hands.
“Why don’t you read it yourself?” she asked.
Tim shrugged. “I don’t know…I like it when you read out loud.”
Cara rubbed the cover of the book between her fingers, feeling the stacked pages shift in her hand. She was awake now. She didn’t want to go back to sleep until Dad came home. But it would be good if Tim did sleep. She didn’t want her brother throwing a fit.
“Fine,” she said. “But you need to lie back down. We need to be asleep when Dad comes back.”
Tim gave a happy shout and dashed back down the hallway, acting like he was five rather than ten. Cara gave the door panel a last look, wondering how to trust that it was actually locked. She couldn’t. Jickson had proven that much. She would need to stay awake until Dad came back.
In the bedroom, she sat against the wall with Tim’s head on his pillow next to her, the pistol by her leg on the other side. She opened the book and turned to the first page and began to read.
Chapter Seventeen