by S. H. Jucha
Soon the station was abuzz with the idea that the escapee from downside was an empath. It neatly explained how the girl had managed to hide from security longer than anyone else.
“Couldn’t be,” railed some. “The governor would never break the accord.”
“But what if she is a sensitive? What does that mean?” others asked.
“If she is an empath, did she kill with her powers? Is she a danger to us on the JOS?” people asked.
* * *
Rumors ran rampant aboard the JOS and reached Harbour from several sources. She chose to add fuel to the fire and called people, who regularly visited the station, to her cabin. Danny, some artisans, an engineer, and two techs filled up the seating places in Harbour’s cabin and she chose to stand.
“You’ve heard the rumors circulating about Aurelia. We’re going to add our own,” Harbour said. “You want to be subtle about this. Ask questions rather than spin your own tales. You heard the girl might be an empath, is that true?”
“How far can we go with the questions?” Danny asked.
“Give me an example?” Harbour asked.
“If we get a bite on the question about Aurelia being a sensitive, can we suggest the accord has been broken?”
“Absolutely, but be careful. Let the other individuals drive the conversation. You can agree with them, if what they’re saying suits our agenda, but don’t argue with them, if it doesn’t.”
“Does anyone have an idea how we can work in the suggestion that Aurelia has a mother and a sister downside?” an artisan asked. He used scrap metal to create one-of-a-kind centerpieces.
“We could wonder how she got downside,” one of the techs said.
“Yes, then you follow that up after a couple of seconds with something like, ‘I wonder if she was born downside,’” the engineer added.
“You could even go a step forward like you’re musing out loud,” the second tech said, jumping into the conversation. “But then that begs the question of who’s her mother. If she’s an empath, which is most likely, how did she get downside?”
“Those are excellent techniques,” Harbour enthused. “But listen carefully. Once you’ve been able to have a conversation to the extent that’s been suggested here, that’s it. Don’t do it again. Let human gravity take over.”
After the individuals left her cabin, Harbour made herself a cup of green. She’d seen six clients today, and she was drained. Her customers were delighted that she’d increased her appointment schedule and were happy to pay the premium Harbour demanded. Every empath was working hard to grow the general fund.
* * *
Danny’s frustration increased daily. On his first trips to the JOS, he hadn’t managed to start a single conversation that realized any substantial traction for the rumor mill. Other Belle residents reported moderate success, but each one lamented that they were talking to people who shared the same opinions and, more than likely, possessed limited social circles. It struck them that they were talking to the wrong individuals, which gave Danny his idea.
Finishing his shopping list for the Belle one day, Danny made an additional purchase and an extravagant one at that. Then he sought out the favorite haunt of well-to-do stationers, the Starlight, a cantina with a transparent wall and an unobstructed view of the stars.
At the impressive doors of the Starlight, Danny squared his shoulders, lifted his head, and made no attempt to hide his prosthetics, as he hit the door actuator and thumped into the cantina. Walking to the bar, Danny drew the looks of many patrons. His face, hands, neatly shaved head, prosthetics, and demeanor screamed spacer, but his expensive skins said a miner who had hit it big.
Danny picked a spot at the bar between two well-heeled patrons, as evinced by the quality of their skins. “Sirs,” Danny acknowledged, taking a seat between them. Both men looked him up and down, but Danny ignored them.
“First time here, friend?” the bartender asked, hurrying over to serve Danny. The contrast between the man and the skins said there was a story to hear.
“Yep,” Danny replied expansively. “Struck a load of heavy metal, and I’m out to spend some coin on myself.”
“I’d be honored to buy your first drink, spacer,” the man to Danny’s left said. “It’s you people who keep Pyre growing.”
“Much appreciate it, friend,” Danny replied. It would be the first of a series of free drinks. Inevitably, the men to each side of Danny and the bartender wanted to hear his story. It quickly became apparent to Danny that these people had little to do with spacers. The two groups definitely didn’t share social circles.
So, Danny spun a story of a tough life, working the asteroid field, until he could buy into a partnership. Then, he’d had the good fortune to test a small, but dense-looking, asteroid. Miraculously, the entire body was composed of heavy metals, and the miners believed it came from the heart of a star that had gone supernova.
Danny told his story succinctly and quickly. He had a plan in mind and needed time to put it into action. “Well, that’s my story. So, what’s been happening on the JOS, while I’ve been out there? I heard some commotion about a girl.”
Several other patrons had closed in behind Danny, while he told his story, and, now, each of them was eager to educate him with their favorite takes on the Aurelia story.
“Wow,” Danny exclaimed, when one woman finished telling him her idea of what might have happened downside. “What did the Review Board decide at this girl’s hearing?” he asked.
That comment evoked laughter and the choking of one patron, who’d been taking a swallow of his drink.
“They haven’t caught her yet,” a man replied.
“Wait. I thought you said she came up via the El weeks ago,” Danny objected. “What do you mean they haven’t caught her yet? Is she dead?”
“A body has never been found,” a woman said.
“How does a downside teenager hide on the JOS for weeks?” Danny asked. “I presume security has her DNA profile.”
“Oh, yes,” the man to Danny’s right said. “They had sniffers going all over the JOS and up and down the terminal arms. Found she’d slipped onto one of Cinders’ ships, slipped back out again, and then disappeared.”
Danny had the good sense to look flummoxed. It wasn’t too hard, since he was working on his third drink. “How is that possible? A ship is locked and coded if no one is aboard or, if open, is guarded at the gangway, and Captain Cinders insists on a tightly run ship.”
“I have a theory,” a woman said. She’d been sidling closer to Danny, during the conversation, obviously wanting to be heard. “The story goes that Captain Cinders did have a man on duty at the gangway. The crewman said he’d fallen asleep. I’ve a friend on security, and she says a disciplinary report was never filed on that spacer for falling asleep on duty, and he’s a longtime crew member of Cinders, no newbie.”
“Okay, what’s your theory?” Danny invited.
“I think Aurelia is an empath, and she put the man to sleep.”
Several patrons around Danny groaned, and the woman, who proposed the explanation, bristled.
“Hey, everyone has a right to an opinion,” Danny said, displaying the mettle of a spacer. It quelled the grumbling, and the woman was somewhat mollified.
“Let me ask you,” Danny said, directing his question at the same woman. “If this girl is an empath, she must have originated on the JOS, which means security has vids of her going downside, right?”
That question sobered more than one patron. The man to Danny’s left said, “According to my sources, security vids don’t show her ever taking the El downside.”
“This is confusing,” Danny said, waving a hand in front of him, as if it would dispel the contradictory information. “You say this girl is on the JOS for weeks, but she can’t be found. You say she can sneak past a spacer on duty and leave again without being seen, but most of you haven’t offered an explanation about how that can happen except for this woman.”
Wiping th
e alcohol-infused expression off his face, Danny eyed each one of his audience, and the patrons found themselves face-to-face with a man who had lived a more dangerous life than they could imagine. “I get it. You’re having the cantina’s newbie on, spinning a tale for my benefit. Good one,” Danny said, breaking into laughter.
“No, friend,” the bartender interrupted. “What they’re telling you is true, except maybe the part of the girl being an empath,” he added, shrugging to the woman, who’d offered the concept. She’s a lousy tipper, anyway, he thought.
Danny stared around him. Heads were nodding in agreement with the bartender. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the opportunity to be immersed in Aurelia’s story that allowed his brain to connect a critical element of his questioning. If he hadn’t been surrounded by the Starlight’s patrons, he would have jumped up and called Harbour.
“It seems to me that there’s an obvious way to figure some of this out,” Danny volunteered. For a moment, he thought he was vacuum and the patrons were air, since he seemed to suck them toward him. “I mean this part about the girl possibly being an empath. They’ve only been born topside, never to downsiders, right?”
Everyone agreed with Danny, so he plowed on. “If this girl is a sensitive, then her parents are from the JOS or the Belle, wouldn’t you agree?”
Again, there was agreement. By now, patrons would have found it difficult to get a drink. The three bartenders were leaning over the counter to hear Danny, and most of the clients weren’t drinking anyway. They were crowded so deep around Danny that those in the outer circles were constantly whispering to someone in front of them, “What did he say?”
“You said security has the girl’s DNA profile. So, my question is what did security discover when they ran that profile against the JOS personnel database?” Danny asked.
The question was asked innocently enough, but Danny, in his excitement, could have pumped a fist in celebration. He looked around him. Patrons were regarding one another, wondering who might have an answer to the question.
“I probably have the most contacts in security,” the man to Danny’s left said. “And I can’t say that security ever ran the girl’s profile against the personnel database or, if they did, I never heard about it.”
“If she’s a downsider, they wouldn’t get a hit anyway,” one patron argued.
“Agreed,” Danny replied. “But there seems to be reasonable suspicion about the girl’s capabilities. You’ve got to admit that hiding from security for weeks and sneaking on and off a crew-monitored mining ship are certainly out of the norm.” Danny deliberately chose the word norm. It was close to the way in which empaths referred to nonsensitives, which was as normals. “From security’s point of view, I’d think they would want to eliminate the possibility, by checking the girl’s profile against the personnel database. No match, she’s probably a downsider. However, you have to wonder who this girl truly might be if they do get a hit. That means she’s a topsider and possibly an empath.”
“That would really pop an airlock,” one bartender said, “especially if her parents are topsiders, and security shows no record of her descending downside.”
“It makes one think,” Danny said, nodding his head in contemplation. “Well, I have business to attend to, people. I want to thank all of you for an enjoyable visit to this wonderful establishment.” He stood, checked his balance, which was anything but 100 percent, gave his audience a quick salute, and then ambled toward the exit.
Behind Danny, patrons closed in and began arguing with one another. It would be hours before people left, and the bartenders did a thriving business, as tempers escalated. One thing everyone did agree on is that several individuals were going to ask their security contacts if Aurelia’s DNA profile had been checked against the JOS personnel registry. They were tasked with reporting back to the audience in two days’ time at 1400 hours.
Danny made his way back to the supply shop where he’d obtained the skins and paid the one-day rental fee he’d negotiated. The owner was an ex-spacer and a friend of his. Then, he searched out a cheap sleepover. There was no way he was flying the Belle’s last shuttle in his present condition. Before Danny put his head down, he sent a quick message to Harbour telling her that he would be returning late. His text started with, “I met some new friends for drinks.”
-18-
Exposed
Major Finian headed for the commandant’s office. Coincidentally, while on the way there, Liam received an urgent message from the commandant to meet with him. He rapped smartly on Emerson’s door when he arrived.
“Come, Major,” Emerson said officiously. He stood to pose in his authoritative stance, which placed his knuckles on the desk so that he could lean forward. Unfortunately, his voice’s pitch, as usual, ruined the illusion.
“I want you to put a stop to these rumors, Major,” Emerson demanded. “And I mean all of them about this girl and her fantastical abilities to hide from us.”
“I have no idea how we would do that, sir. It’s not like anyone is holding a public meeting or speaking on an open forum. They’re talking one on one or in private group conversations. Besides, sir, these rumors might be closer to the truth than we imagined.”
“What?” Emerson stammered, sitting down heavily. He’d been ready to push his people to quash the calls coming from the station’s prominent citizens who’d been pestering him with their theories about Aurelia. What he didn’t expect was to have his immediate subordinate announce the reverse of his intentions.
“I received a request this morning from Harbour for a DNA profile comparison, which I ran.”
“Whose profile?” Emerson asked, with rising concern.
“Harbour asked me to use Aurelia’s DNA profile and search the station’s database for a match.”
“She hasn’t the authority to make such a request in so sensitive a case,” Emerson cried, jumping up from his desk.
“Actually, she does, Commandant. She’s the defacto captain of the Honora Belle. And with the rumors piling up about how Aurelia might be an empath and that’s how she’s hiding from us, I thought it prudent to run the search and dispel them.”
“That was good thinking, Major,” Emerson said, somewhat mollified and settling back into his chair. “So now you can announce your finding and end this foolishness once and for all.”
“That’s what I’d hoped for, sir, but it didn’t work out that way,” Liam replied, a small grimace twisting his lips.
“What do you mean, it didn’t work out?” Emerson demanded, his voice rising again.
“I got a hit in the personnel database, a familial match.”
“Oh, for the love of Pyre, who?” Emerson asked, slumping deep into his chair.
“Do you remember the case of Helena Garmenti, sir?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, Major. Who is she?”
“She was a seventeen-year-old stationer who disappeared from the JOS.”
“Accident?” Emerson asked.
“No, Commandant. She was never found.”
“Is it possible she skipped downside?”
“I checked security records on the extent of the search for her. The cam files were thoroughly reviewed. She never walked onto the El.”
“Why did you say it like that?”
“Just putting things together, sir,” Liam said cautiously. “Seventeen years ago, we had a seventeen year old go missing. She was considered one of the young girls who everyone liked.”
“What’s your point, Major?”
“That expression is often used as a description for late-blooming, weak empaths. Now, what age would you say Aurelia is, judging by the vids of her? Maybe sixteen?”
“This is all conjecture on your part, Major. You’re trying to piece together disparate details to make a case that Aurelia is an empath. I think these rumors are influencing your judgment.”
“On the contrary, sir, I was thoroughly convinced my search wouldn’t discover a match. But the DNA e
vidence is clear. A young girl disappears from the JOS, and a year later she has a baby, who flees to the JOS from downside, seventeen years after the first girl disappeared. How do you connect the dots?”
Emerson briefly held his head in his hands. Everything was unraveling. If events proceeded like this, his liaison with the families would be exposed. Then, losing his position would be the least of his worries. More than likely, he’d face the Review Board and a stiff sentence.
“There’s one more thing you should know, sir. On the three days preceding Helena’s disappearance, Markos Andropov was on the JOS for the funerals of his wife and brother-in-law, who were killed in a terminal arm accident. He was accompanied by Giorgio Sestos. The two men traveled downside on the day that Helena was last seen.”
Emerson stared at Liam. He wanted to appear fierce, but fear squeezed his lungs. “You’re proposing that Markos kidnapped Helena and stowed her in cargo with the help of his security? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?”
Liam Finian watched his superior closely. He’d long believed that the commandant favored the families. As far as he was concerned, this was a test of where the man’s loyalties lay. While the evidence against Markos Andropov was circumstantial, it was compelling, to say the least, and the facts warranted an investigation.
“I presume your search and the response were recorded in Aurelia’s file?” Emerson asked, thinking of ways to handle the major’s news.
“Of course, Commandant, you can view the results of the comparison for yourself. How would you like me to proceed?”
“Let me review the data first, Major. We don’t want to be too hasty. This case is too important to make a misstep.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll wait to hear from you,” Liam said, executing a quick salute and exiting the commandant’s office.
Liam made directly for Lieutenant Higgins office, pleased to catch him in. Closing the door, Liam said, “I want the commandant’s private comm unit monitored. Any conversations he has with downsiders, especially the families, are to be recorded. Do it now.”
