This time Morton knew one of the trainees would be his replacement. It made for one very short-tempered intern trainer. But, because the interns so desperately needed the jobs, they were happy despite their short-tempered trainers. And besides, the worker efficiency protocol did stress that ill-tempered trainers produced better and more efficient workers.
After their three months rig haul training period, the newbies would be promoted to rig-ryder level I status, if they passed the haul exams. Of course, they didn’t own their rigs, not unless they had rich parents. They leased them, via substantial chit docks from their minimum wages. Like university students with loans, they could only hope to be debt free by the time they retired.
“You want us to sub for you, Morton? Rose and I got to get onto Lanai. We have an issue,” Roxanne whispered to Morton, motioning him to follow her to a more private place. They both walked to the back of the rig.
“What’s the issue, Roxanne? Are you in trouble?” Morton cupped a hand over his mouth, in case one of the trainees could lip read.
“Gimlet’s missing. Rose and I think she’s on Lanai. It’s too long to go into and we have re-track time issues. Can we run your usual haul for you?” Roxanne asked.
“Of course, I’ll code the sub in. But, you gotta split the chits, fifty-fifty. Okay?”
“You got a deal,” Roxanne replied, palming her ID to Morton. The code box would now accept her as the driver for his haul.
Morton was only too happy to have Roxanne and Rose sub for him as it meant he would not have to give up the potential haul chits, and also providing they split any bribes from the pirates in #3. It seems Morton had quite a little side line going in illegals into #3.
Thus, Roxanne and Rose drove Morton’s rig to the bubble-stop #3 off-load dock, to Morton’s usual down-time place for his required rig check. Roxanne agreed they’d share any bribes and his normal haul chits, fifty-fifty, and she would hand deliver anything off the record to the pirates. They’d left her rig back in San Fran, surrounded by humming busy little nano-drones, doing their usual yearly upgrades. This year the drones upped the maximum load.
She and Rose had sixty-seven hours to find and rescue Gimlet before their own re-track time back in San Fran. Roxanne had to bribe the dispatcher to let them take Morton’s haul; there was a long wait list for subs into the #3 Lanai zone as the food was better.
Roxanne convinced the mid-manager dispatcher by telling her she’d bring back some great stuff from Lanai for her. Her rig would get the yearly Inc. upgrades, while she and Rose did overtime doing Morton’s haul, and she’d be back to retrieve her nicely re-tuned and upgraded rig in time for her scheduled haul back to Tokyo. She also had to agree to buy that manager a weekend pass to the Lanai R&R for that special weekend retreat thing, plus give up her extra black leather jacket.
Overtime was the magic word; you never got paid extra for it, but the Inc. saved, and the Inc. loved to save. It was not union sanctioned, but everyone did this in the summer to collect extra chits, during intern training. At the end of the summer, the chits would be equally shared among the level III trainers. It was usually enough to buy an extra-large pizza, even topped with ham and pineapple. You just had to be sure to eat tons of caffeine spiked food balls or wear the skin patches to stay awake during those overtime hauls. At present, Roxanne and Rose were both pretty wired from caffeine patches and spiked food balls.
“I see the back portal ahead, Roxanne. We may have to use sonics if the locks won’t open.” Rose was driving the bubble. Roxanne was busy checking her weapons, a sonic stunner, an old fashioned and fully loaded Glock, a present from Gimlet, her whip, and two Goto knives, from Michael Segev. The knives were birthday presents. He was so romantic.
“I’ve got the sonics ready. But, try the old code first. Maybe it hasn’t changed. Morton said it was always the same,” Roxanne replied. They had explained the plan to Morton before taking off from #1 in his rig. He usually used an oxygen bubble transporter to deliver the perishables, and any illegals into this back portal. He told them he used the back portal to deliver illegals, like neuro-pops, or even escaped sex slaves to this region. Today Roxanne and Rose were carrying contraband vaccines, real, honest to god, polio vaccines. They were for the #3 school kids, and had cost the pirates a fortune in traded sex slaves. But, these slaves had volunteered so that their kids could get those vaccines.
The pirates had also set up quite a trade in real kidnapped sex slaves. Many stayed on, preferring to live among the pirates rather than serve out their time at the pleasure of one of the WME rulers or an Inc. CEO.
See, when you got convicted of a crime, you had your choice of slave time, a flash freeze, or hard labor. The flash freeze thing was promoted by the WME as a cheap way to house prisoners without having to feed them. Most of the better looking humans, male and female, preferred the flash freeze, even though they would probably wake up in a world they knew nothing about. If it got too weird, well that’s bubble stop #5.
But, as I said before, that’s another story.
“I still think we should have contacted Michael Segev, Roxanne. He goes in and out of this region all the time on rebel missions for Dorian,” Rose said as she maneuvered the bubble to suction lock with the portal, and coded in the security numbers provided by Morton. They worked. The portal opened directly into the tunnel, after the water was pumped out.
“Well, that was much easier than blowing the place,” Rose deadpanned.
The thought of Michael Segev made Roxanne smile. And, usually no human male could make Roxanne Smoot smile. Men had that crazy reaction to her; it was annoying, and sometimes dangerous. It had always been that way, even when she was much too young for those looks, and was living in the back cab with her dad, Eldridge. It made her keep her distance, become wary of males, and learn to use a whip.
I suppose it was why she fell for Michael Segev. Let me tell you that story.
The first time she met him, Roxanne walked into the bar at #4 for her down-time, and as usual, the rig-ryders all went boner on her, all except Michael. He was sitting at the bar whispering to Eldridge. They were discussing some rebel spy mission stuff.
Michael looked up at her, maybe for five seconds, looked annoyed at the interruption, and continued his whispered discussion with Eldridge. On her part, it was love at first sight. He just thought she was a minor distraction. He thought that for the first year. Maybe he still does. One never knows what Michael Segev is thinking. Anyway, that’s how they met.
Now back to the #3 portal with Roxanne.
“We can do this fine by ourselves, Rose. We don’t need Michael. Just open the air lock,” Roxanne replied. She was annoyed that Rose had brought Michael up again; she needed to concentrate. Roxanne finished her last weapons check, tucked the Glock into the back of her pants, under her shirt, and entered the portal head first, fired up sonic in her right hand.
“Okay, it was just a suggestion. Don’t go alI pissy on me, I got your back. Let’s do this.” Rose spoke in Maori, with a sort of low growly sound, so no one would hear her.
The tunnel into #3 had a terrible echo and full canine-speak would carry. Roxanne and Rose inched carefully through until they reached a turn. Morton told them this was the worst section. It was the pirates’ illegal booty portal, but if there was some sort of faction war going on they could be grabbed up for ransom, or caught in cross-fire. Roxanne had Rose look around the corner, because she was at a lower level, and could see better in the dark tunnel.
“All clear; let’s go,” Rose growled.
They continued their slow pace, until they came to one of the actual #3 gates, then used Morton’s code pass to enter. A slime bubbler encased them immediately and a robotic voice said,
“Welcome to bubble-stop #3, Roxanne Smoot, rig-ryder level III. I have record of your replacement for Morton level III as per summer intern training replacement. Please proceed to the offload dock. Thank you and have a nice day.”
The plasmon slime o
ozed off of them, leaving only a slight smell of toluene and benzene. Rose identified those organics immediately from her university chemistry class. Two giant, heavily armed, smiling pirates greeted them at the other side of the plasmon gate, happy to have the load of vaccines, for which they paid Roxanne the agreed upon chits; the bribe she would split fifty-fifty with Morton, as the volunteer slaves had already been delivered. She hid the chits in the side pouch of her left boot.
At first, Roxanne expected the usual male reaction to her. But, the pirates were not impressed. She was surprised for a minute, but then she remembered her disguise, a plain, frumpy, middle-aged woman, the invisible human. Roxanne had planned this back in San-Fran. She wore a fat suit and a temporary stem cell face, which would melt in two hours. She’d selected the tired street cleaner face from several designs, sold at the face and stem cell tattoo shop near the San Fran rig dock, under the Golden Gate Bridge, near the power center for that lock; it was the lock that some rich CEO had built before the first ocean level rise.
Temporary faces were legal in all areas, even at security gates; it was the DNA that was checked for entry, not the face. A genetic ID was much more accurate. The scan-drones didn’t even notice what the face looked like.
After signing with the pirates for delivery of the legals, Roxanne personally handed one guy a small box, something illegal from Morton. She had no idea what was inside, and told Morton not to even tell her. Most likely it contained voucher bribes, or maybe neuropops; something to keep both sides happy for future dealings in illegals. It was how Morton kept his rig upgraded. She knew he also hoped to build his retirement back up that way.
“Tell Morton thanks, and we’ll see him after training season. Just tell him we’ll agree to the usual.” One of the guards palmed acceptance of what was legal, some solar cells for their school, and stashed the illegal vaccines in a backpack.
“Follow us; we’ll take you to the main gate. Things are pretty quiet now, but last week we had a faction war going on. This alley was a war zone. You’re lucky it’s quiet this week.”
“What was the fight about?” Roxanne asked to make polite conversation.
“Turf, mostly; #3 is getting overcrowded and space is premium. The pirate faction wants chits for protection, the shop keepers want space, and the WME wants taxes. It’s always the same. You got problems in your stop? Where is your usual stop anyway?” the #3er asked.
“I hail from #5. Before hauling I grew up in #5.” Roxanne lied, but it certainly did stop the conversation. Both pirates just sort of stepped away from Roxanne after that, like she was contagious. Then, after they reached the portal gate, both slipped away as fast as they could, most likely to get to a quick decontam unit. It was the normal reaction to #5ers.
Roxanne and Rose looked around, finally finding the switch to open the gate, turned the metal bar clockwise, and stepped inside. The portal gate opened into a midtown area near a back alley, behind what looked like a sports equipment shop. They both walked around as nonchalantly as they could, although Roxanne was not practiced at sauntering in a fat suit. She did more of a duck walk.
But, blending in was not a problem for Rose. She noted a plethora of Dobermans in the area, some real eye candy. They walked quickly to a less crowded area, because Roxanne had only two hours of official logged in Inc. dock time at #3 before a check drone would be launched to search for them, and besides, her face would also expire in another two hours.
“Do you smell any trace of Gimlet anywhere, Rose?” Roxanne asked, in whispered Maori.
“No. Wait, yes, I have a faint trace on her smell. This way.” Rose scooted to the left with Roxanne following, trying to look like a drab lady on a shopping trip. Luckily it was off work time, and it seemed everyone was out shopping or going out to one of the many restaurants in #3. They passed an especially enticing place, smelling the orgasmic aroma of fried spam and eggs.
Ah, Hawaii, thought Rose.
Unfortunately for a second, the spam smell doused the faint trace on Gimlet, and Rose had to double back to catch it.
“I’ve picked it up again. It would seem she has come this way. But the smell was stronger in the tunnel. I think they brought her in by the same portal we used. I keep losing the scent. The food here smells fabulous. Oh, there, I’ve got the trace again.” Rose trotted from place to place, sniffing. No one noticed her because to them, she just looked like a normal dog; and Rose could do a passable “normal dog” when she had to.
“I can’t believe this place. It’s so much bigger than our #4. I’ve counted seven restaurants already. They even have an Indian chaat place. Did you see that, back there? I wonder if we have time for take-out. I never get Indian food.” Roxanne looked around in awe at bubble-stop #3. She had never been around the place; she had only stayed at a loading dock that one time she’d subbed for Morton during his nose replacement.
“This is more like the stops in San Fran and Tokyo. But it stands to reason, Roxanne. The places near a land base are always bigger because there are more people to supply, and thus, the need for a more substantive bubble-stop. Ours and #2 are just water bubbles, like a highway rest stop used to be. Oh, here, turn left here.” Rose hung a left at a corner housing a British style pub. They could smell frying fish and stale ale.
“Yes well, and don’t forget bubble-stop #5. That one is also water-based. Dad actually stopped there one time, back when he was still the rig-ryder. He said he would not do that again. Slow down, Rose. I’m having trouble keeping up with you in this fat suit. And, my temporary facial sub is fading. Take and look. How do I look?” Roxanne hurried to keep up with Rose, who was excited about following Gimlet’s scent.
It’s a dog thing.
“Let me see. Well yes, your face is slipping. Hide the left side with a scarf.” Rose grabbed a scarf from a street vendor, using her teeth. The vendor was getting ready to complain until she saw Rose, or rather a big portion of Rose’s teeth. To keep her from screaming, Roxanne handed some chits to the vendor, and then hid her own face with a long purple synth scarf.
“I would be happy if I never had to go to #5. Plus, that one time I asked Michael about it, he said there were no canines in #5; that’s so boring.” Rose stopped in front of what looked like a solid wall.
“Roxanne, the scent stops here,” she said.
“Then this is not really a solid wall. Can you detect any door lines or crevices? There must be an opening device or lever some place.” Roxanne felt the upper portion of the brick wall, while Rose examined the lower section with her nose. After several minutes, Rose woofed,
“Here, there is a small line here with a hidden door. I suspect it opens easily from the inside, but has a hidden hinge device someplace on the outside. Let me look over there.” Rose nosed her way to another section of the wall, a portion with some loose bricks.
At first glance it looked like some part of the wall had loosened, like bricks sometimes do. But upon closer inspection, Rose discovered a hinge hidden behind one of the loose bricks. While Rose nosed at the hinge, Roxanne watched for any passersby, or people who just seemed too curious. But from the perspective of most ordinary #3ers, she just seemed like a frumpy shopper who’d stopped to let her large black mean looking Doberman take a dump. Rose complied, only to make things seem less conspicuous. She preferred dirt to concrete to do her business.
The hinge gave way, and the brick wall opened to a small passageway leading into a dark tunnel. After they entered, the door slowly shut behind them on a spring device. Roxanne had to stoop down to get into the tunnel, and remained hunched as they walked into the main part of the passageway. She took out her bit-lite, looking around at the concrete walls.
“This looks like one of those old WWII bunkers. I visited one once just outside of San Fran, on a place called Angel Island. They used them to watch for the invading Japanese way back in the 1940s. I remember studying that in history class, so when I got the chance I took a ferry over to Angel Island during my down-time last
year. Next time I’ll bring you along, Rose. It’s a beautiful hike.”
“Yes I agree, Roxanne. It does look like a WWII bunker. But I need to talk softly now, because my unmodified voice carries too far in this tunnel. Someday I wish you’d have my vocals modified so I can whisper, especially on our next pirate mission.”
“I hope we never have another pirate mission, Rose. I’m only here to find Gimlet. Unlike Michael, I have no desire to be an away team rebel killer, or even a rebel, although I did train with them for a year after grad school; I’m a rig-ryder for life. Do you have a scent on Gimlet yet?”
“Yes, it returned right after we entered the tunnel. Turn right here. It’s getting stronger,” Rose replied. They followed the scent until they heard voices. Roxanne shut her bit-lite, and they both hunched down, ready for a fight. They could hear someone talking.
“You’re gonna get the shit beat out of you for letting that girl get away. Yac’s a real bastard for obedience. He told you not to go into that cell. What the hell were you thinking, you dumb shit?” One of the guards passed very near to them, but luckily they turned in the opposite direction.
“I just wanted to see under that shirt. She’s a real piece of sugar. I’d love to visit her in a sex shop anytime. She’d go for tops at the sex auction.” The other guard answered, but they were getting further away, and it was difficult to hear them. Roxanne knew they were talking about Gimlet. They had her sis!
Roxanne turned slightly around the edge of the wall to catch the rest of the conversation. But unfortunately her foot hit some loose concrete, sending the sounds of crumbling rocks down the tunnel. The guards heard.
“What was that? Did you hear that? Let’s go back and take a look. It sounds like somebody is back there in the next tunnel.” The two guards armed their sonics to brain fry mode, and approached the place where Roxanne and Rose crouched. But just before the two guards reached them, Rose ran out from her hiding place, wagging her tail, and yelping, doing her best lost pup imitation, watching Roxanne’s back. One of the guards bent down and patted her on the head.
Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III Page 11
